Transformations
by Debra N
Summary: A violent attack leaves Danny reeling, while the team's investigation leads to a 'vampire' cult. Will Martin find the strength to protect his friend when the cult's leader decides she wants to play with Danny again?
1. Saving Danny

**Transformations**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Without A Trace. Jerry Bruckheimer Television and CBS Productions have that privilege. I'm just borrowing it for fun. No money was made, and only respect was intended.

**Notes:** This is something of a horror story. Please do not expect a logical plot or reasonable explanations. You can, however, expect monstrous attacks, blood and (hopefully) a scary moment or two. Also this includes my own take on vampires, so it won't completely match up with vampire lore. Thanks go to Silvia for the Spanish translations, and Julie for her work as beta.

* * *

><p>Martin Fitzgerald first saved and then printed the document on his computer. As the printer started to sputter out its newest report, he leaned back letting the lids close over his bloodshot, blue eyes with a sigh. The chair wasn't tall enough to support the head and neck of his six-foot frame, but he was too tired to care.<p>

"Don't fall asleep yet," warned Vivian Johnson. "You still have to drive home." The older, more experienced agent knew all too well the dangers of pushing yourself beyond your body's capabilities. Her small stature sometimes led others to underestimate her, but she was a fierce investigator who loved her job. That she balanced her demanding profession with a stable family life earned her the respect of her coworkers, even when she started turning those maternal instincts on the younger members of their unit.

Martin glanced at his watch and groaned. By the time he drove home and crawled into bed he'd get, at most, four and hours of rest. "Do you think anyone would notice if I just slept here?"

"You'll notice in the morning when your neck is stiff and your back aches," Vivian predicted.

"What about you?" asked Martin. "What are you still doing here?"

"Reggie and his dad are at the game tonight, so it's not like I'm missing anything," explained Vivian. "Now that I'm finally caught up on my paperwork, I'm going home." Vivian swept up her purse and jacket. "It's about time for you to leave too, Martin."

Martin nodded in acknowledgement. Most of the office was empty. Samantha and Elena had left a couple of hours ago, chatting about where to go first on their 'girls night' shopping spree. Danny had also left, his story of an old college buddy visiting town, being enough to convince Martin to do some of Danny's paperwork. Jack was still in his office talking on the phone, but there was a grin on his face, so the call probably wasn't about a new case.

The printer finally quieted and Martin gathered up the sheets so he could leave them on Jack's desk on his way out. He'd just reached the hallway when his cell phone started to ring. He was tempted to ignore the call and let it go to voice mail, but his responsible side insisted he answer it. "Fitzgerald," he greeted. A breathy moan coupled with some incoherent mumbles was the reply. "Who is this?" Martin wasn't sure whether to be irritated or concerned. The change in his tone was enough to halt Vivian's exodus. She looked back at Martin inquiringly, but he could only shrug in confusion as he waited for an understandable reply.

"Martin, help por favor," murmured a barely recognizable voice, "I can't run anymore. No puedo seguir mas."

"Danny?" Martin rushed right passed concerned to alarm.

"Demasiados, too many to fight," Danny continued. "Everything hurts."

"Danny, I need you to tell me where you are," Martin instructed urgently.

"Callejon, estoy en el callejon," Danny slurred.

Martin searched his memory for the right translation. "Do you mean you're in an alley?" There was a mumbled reply that Martin took for agreement. "I need more, Danny. Can you give me the name of a street or business?"

"Tired." Danny's voice had fallen to a weak whisper. He couldn't even respond to Martin's questions anymore.

"No! Danny, do not fall asleep!" Martin ordered urgently. Then he covered the mouthpiece of his cell. "Get Jack," he instructed Vivian. Martin turned and ran down the hall to the tech room. Everything he needed to trace Danny's cell call was there. Mack, like so many others, had left for the day, but Martin knew how to set up a trace, even if he wasn't quite as quick as Mack. "Danny are you still with me?" Martin struggled to keep the conversation going while the equipment began isolating Danny's cell phone signal. "Danny, I need you to keep talking to me."

"Martin?" Danny's voice sounded confused, as though he couldn't understand why he was hearing Martin's voice.

A map of the city filled the computer screen, but the trace still hadn't localized his location beyond southern Manhattan. "I need you to focus, Danny. Look around. Do you see any street signs or business names that could help me find you?"

"Espera un minuto," Danny mumbled. Martin could hear the sounds of movement and hoped Danny was just repositioning to get a better look.

Jack and Vivian surged into the room on a wave of tension. Martin again covered the mouthpiece so he could explain what he knew. "Danny's been attacked somewhere around . . ." Martin threw a quick glance at the monitor. "TriBeCa. He may have a concussion. He seems confused with slurred speech, and he keeps dropping into Spanish on me."

"Danny said he was going to meet his friend at a pizza parlor near the New York Law School campus," remembered Vivian. Jack was already placing a call to the local precinct. They'd have the best chance of reaching Danny first, so they needed to know there was an agent in trouble nearby.

"Joe's Negocio de Empeno," Danny spoke once more.

"Say again, Danny. I didn't hear that," Martin instructed. The trace on Danny's cell finally pinpointed his location. Jack immediately relayed the new information to the locals, letting Martin focus on keeping their friend going until help arrived.

"Joe's Pawn Shop, en la vereda de enfrente," Danny repeated.

"You can see Joe's Pawn Shop across the street," confirmed Martin. "That's great Danny. Help is on the way." On the other end of the signal, Danny groaned and then fell ominously quiet. Afraid that Danny might lapse into unconsciousness Martin tried to keep the conversation going. "Can you tell me where you're hurt?" Silence answered his question. "Danny! Danny, I know you've been through a lot, but don't give up on me now."

"I'm here," assured a weak voice.

Willing to take what crumbs he could get, Martin asked, "Are you bleeding?"

"Yeah, bleeding everywhere," replied Danny in a detached manner. Martin fought back his panic at the answer. The tone of the reply had Martin wondering if shock was already affecting Danny.

"NYPD's almost to him," Jack informed.

"Okay Danny, back up is almost there. Can you hear the sirens, yet?" Martin asked. He needed to hear that someone was there to help Danny.

"Si, I . . . No . . . no, no, no, no, no." Panic suddenly strengthened Danny's voice. "Ellos me encontraron, Martin . . ."

"Who found you, the ones that hurt you?" This couldn't be happening now. The police were just moments away. "Danny?" A clatter announced the cell phone hitting something hard. Martin pressed his phone against his ear to hear the muffled sounds of struggle. Danny cried out in pain. "Where the hell is the back up?" cursed Martin. "Danny is fighting for his life out there!" As useless as it was to cling to the tiny phone, Martin needed to keep listening, needed to hear that Danny was still fighting to survive.

"They should be arriving on the scene, right now," Jack responded tightly.

Martin recognized the sirens, but couldn't understand the shouting in the background. For the first time he noticed that a couple of other agents had gathered, and were in a hushed conversation with Vivian. At Vivian's instruction one of the agents dashed off towards the team's desks. Over the cell, Martin thought he heard someone talking to Danny, but was it friend or foe? Then he heard Danny's voice urgently saying his name, and someone replying in a calm reassuring tone.

"Hello, am I speaking to Martin?" asked a strange voice on Danny's cell phone.

"Yes," Martin replied shortly. "What's happened to Danny?"

"This is Officer Draker. Your friend is safe. Our arrival scared off two perps who were trying to drag him further down the alley. We've called to have an ambulance take him to the hospital."

"This is Special Agent Fitzgerald. Danny is also an agent with the FBI's Missing Persons unit. What can you tell me about the perps?" asked Martin.

"Two good looking, well dressed guys in their late twenties. This didn't look like an ordinary mugging. Was your agent working undercover?" asked the officer.

"No, just supposed to be meeting with an old college buddy," admitted Martin. "How badly is he hurt?"

"Ligature marks on his wrists, blood loss from more than a dozen wounds. Are you sure this isn't related to some case? Because honest to God, he looks like he's been tortured," informed Officer Draker. With a queasy stomach, Martin passed on the information to Jack.

Jack's jaw clinched tight for several seconds before he forced it apart to speak. "Vivian, I want you to go down and check out the crime scene. We also need to track down the friend that Danny was supposed to be meeting. Martin, make sure a couple of officers escort the ambulance to the hospital. We'll meet them there."

Martin repeated the instructions to Draker who replied, "The ambulance is pulling up now. It shouldn't take us more than twenty minutes to reach the New York Downtown Hospital. We'll stay with your agent until you arrive."

Martin ended the call. The next few seconds found him staring at his cell, replaying Danny's call in his head. "You handled it just right, Martin." Martin was a little surprised to find Jack standing at his shoulder. "You kept Danny talking long enough to get a trace. You got help to him as quickly as possible, while extracting the information needed to start an investigation. Your fast action probably saved his life."

As sincere as Jack's words seemed, they did little to convince Martin. "Somebody tortured Danny, and they almost had him a second time." Not even in the midst of the Teno assassination, when their car had been spinning out of control and Martin had realized he'd been hit, had he felt so utterly helpless.

"We're going to find out who they are, and make sure they never touch Danny again," promised Jack. "Now go grab your coat. We need to get to the hospital."

* * *

><p>Fate seemed to be laughing at them right now. Jack would swear, under oath, that every traffic light had turned red just for them; that every moronic driver in New York City was competing to get in his way. He was giving serious consideration to ramming as a viable option, when the hospital came into view. That Martin had not once mentioned Jack's increasingly aggressive driving, showed how shaken he was by Danny's attack. Not that he and Vivian weren't affected, something like this was bound to send shockwaves through the whole team. Shit! He hadn't called Samantha or Elena. It was a toss up as to who would be more pissed when they learned he'd waited so long to call them. He'd deal with that just as soon as he'd confirmed Danny would be all right. Parking in what he was fairly certain was an off-limits parking spot; Jack cut the ignition and headed for the Emergency Room doors. Martin followed close, like a too pale shadow.<p>

Inside, it was easy to find where Danny was being taken care of. A uniformed police officer guarded a door at the far end of the hall. A second uniform could be seen through the room's window standing beside a gurney while a nurse attended the patient. Jack pulled out his credentials as he approached the policeman.

The officer pulled out a roll of papers and offered them to Jack. "The perps managed to elude our foot pursuit, but I did get a look at them."

Unrolling the papers revealed the sketched likenesses of two men. One showed both face and profile, while the other left part of the criminal's visage shadowed. "Did you draw these?" asked Jack, noting Verna on the officer's nametag.

"Yeah, I help out our sketch artist sometimes. Draker is in with your agent. The doctor said he'd be back with the results of some blood tests." Officer Verna continued speaking as Martin signaled Jack, and then entered Danny's room, replacing Draker at the unconscious man's side. Jack could understand why Martin needed to see Danny, especially after handling the phone call. On the other hand, someone needed to get details from the first responders and talk with Danny's doctor. Times like this, it really sucked being the boss. Jack looked back at the young policeman who added, "I'm sorry we weren't able to get either of these guys. They just seemed to melt into the darkness." He shrugged apologetically then motioned down the hall. "This is Doctor Hyde. He's been working on Danny. Doctor Hyde, this is your patient's coworker, Agent Malone."

Jack shook hands with the doctor, asking, "What can you tell me?"

"Your friend was brought in suffering from shock due to blood loss. Once we raised his blood volume he stabilized enough for us to suture his wounds. We counted fourteen cuts on various parts of his body; including his arms, legs, torso and abdomen, each requiring 8-13 stitches," detailed the doctor.

"What about his concussion?" inquired Jack.

"There was no concussion," insisted Doctor Hyde. "His altered mental state was due to the drug in his system."

"What?" demanded Jack.

"At some point in the last six hours your agent ingested flunitrazepam more commonly known as Rohypnol . . ."

"Some one slipped him a Ruffie?" Jack interrupted using the drug's street name.

"Yes, though I don't think he received a full dose, thus his ability to fight his attackers," explained the doctor. Hyde pulled a plastic bag from one of his coat pockets. "While I was treating his wrists, I pulled these fibers from the wounds. I hope they can help you." Once Jack had accepted the bag the doctor continued. "I'm not sure if it's related, but I did hear of another similar attack last week. A twenty-five year old woman was drugged with Ruffies, ritually cut and bled, raped and then dumped near St. Vincent's Emergency Room."

"I heard about that case," volunteered Verna. "It got bumped up to the Special Victims Unit. But would a rapist go from attacking a girl to a guy? I thought they tended towards a certain 'type' of victim."

"That depends on whether the attacker is getting his rush off the rape or the torture. If it's about him controlling another's pain and suffering, he might have targeted Danny as a challenge," theorized Jack. "I'll look into the case and see if they're connected." Jack hated going through the motions of an investigation, but at this moment it was the only thing he could do to help Danny. It was time to place some calls to Samantha and Elena, and find out what Vivian had discovered at the crime scene.

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><p>There was something he needed to be doing. Danny tried to focus his thoughts, but everything was a confusing muddle. There were blurry images of people he didn't know; a woman's laughter that sent fear coursing through his system. The more he tried to identify the fragmented memories, the worse his head ached. There were other pains too, sharp cuts and stabs that he couldn't escape. Shadowy shapes closing in on him, holding him down. He tried to fight, but they ignored his blows and pinned him tighter. There were so many screams of pain, and not just his own. He had to get away, had to . . .<p>

"Easy, Danny. You're safe now," assured the lone thread of sanity in the tapestry of his nightmares: Martin.

Danny forced his eyes to open, revealing the hazy image of his coworker and friend. This wasn't the first time he had awakened, though he couldn't remember if he'd woken three times before or four. Danny knew he was in a hospital, though the room seemed different than the first time he'd come around. Hadn't he seen Jack here too? Martin offered him a cup of water with a straw to help him drink. It was amazing how good that cool liquid felt slipping passed his mouth and down his throat. It even seemed to make his headache recede a bit and calm his turning stomach. Wait a minute. He knew this feeling. It might have been ten years, but he still remembered that dry mouth, headache and nausea equaled a hangover. Just what the hell had he gotten into last night?

"Nothing you need to feel guilty about," replied Martin to the question Danny hadn't even realized he'd spoken out loud. "I want you to listen to me closely, so maybe this time you'll remember what I'm telling you. The doctor found no trace of alcohol in your bloodstream, none at all, Danny. We think someone slipped you a Ruffie to incapacitate you."

For the first time Danny noticed the bandages on his arms. He could also feel aches and pains scattered across his body in an echo of his nightmare. The white gauze circling his wrists was a light reminder of the rough twine that had bound him before. _'Struggle all you want, Hero. It won't help you in the end.'_ Danny's whole body jerked at the murmured threat. "She's not gonna give up." Certain dread told Danny that his ordeal was just beginning.

"She? There was a woman involved in the attack?" Martin jumped on the tiny scrap of information before he could stop himself. The other times Danny had awoken, he'd barely been able to figure out what day it was. Doctor Hyde had warned that the drugs would likely impair much of his memory of the attack. Rohypnol was popular amongst rapists because it so often left victims unable to identify their attackers. Victim: it was just so wrong to have that word associated with Danny in any way. He was a survivor. If Danny had retained some memory of what had happened last night, they would use it to track down the ones who'd done this and force them to answer for their crimes. Martin was willing to do everything in his power to see that Danny got justice.

"Yeah, there was a woman. A lot of other things are mixed up, but I remember her voice." Danny's raw throat hissed out the words in a mixture of loathing and fear.

Martin reached behind to his coat hanging on the chair. Pulling out a tape recorder he showed it to Danny. "We can do this now, or wait until later to take your statement."

Eyes locked on the small device, Danny had to ask, "Are they going to let our team handle the investigation?"

"We'll be sharing our information with SVU since they have a similar case, but for right now we're primary on the investigation of your attack." Martin didn't add that Jack had been forced to argue fiercely to win that privilege. It was entirely possible that Danny's case could still be taken from them, especially if the higher ups thought the team was too emotionally involved.

"Let's do it now. I want to get this over with." If only speaking about what happened could somehow purge the nightmares from his mind.

Giving Danny a minute to gather his composure, Martin pulled out a pen and paper for notes and then set the recorder on the rolling tray between them. Pushing one of its buttons he began to speak, "This is Special Agent Martin Fitzgerald interviewing Special Agent Danny Taylor about the incident of October 27th. It is currently 7:43 am, October 28th. The interview is taking place at the New York Downtown Hospital." Meeting Danny's eyes he waited for a nod before proceeding. "Do you remember leaving the office last night?"

For a second, a hint of a smirk ghosted across Danny's lips. "I remember conning you into doing my paper work so that I could cut out early." Now he was wishing he'd never left the office.

"Did you meet your friend after you left work?" Martin prodded.

"Yeah, wait, no," corrected Danny. "I went home first to change into casual cloths. Then I met Ryan at Paulo's Pizza Pies."

"You met with Ryan Saluke," Martin clarified.

"Yes. Ryan picked the restaurant. He always liked their pepperoni and pineapple pizza." Danny hesitated as the memories became fuzzier and less pleasant. "We were there for at least an hour; long enough to get our food. Long enough for Ryan to tell me about the crazy woman he'd made the mistake of dating. He kept referring to her as 'The Queen Hell Bitch'. I think it was supposed to be a joke, but every time he said it he sounded scared."

"Maybe the same woman involved in the attack?" offered Martin.

Danny took a moment to consider Martin's theory, but the more he thought the more lost and confused his expression became. "I'm not sure. I don't remember seeing her. Just a voice." _'Are you going to save your friend, Hero? You can't even save yourself.'_ Danny felt his very soul weighed down by failure.

"Where did you go after the restaurant?" asked Martin trying to pull Danny from whatever dark thoughts trapped him.

Danny's brow creased in concentration. "I don't remember leaving. Maybe that's where I was slipped the Ruffies," Danny offered.

"What do you remember next?" Martin hoped to keep the memories flowing without putting too much pressure on Danny.

Danny could barely navigate the dark flow of nightmare images. "My wrists were tied, above my head. I think . . . I think it was the smell that brought me around." When he closed his eyes the stink swamped him again.

"What smell?"

"Blood. It was overwhelming, like the back of a butcher shop, only worse." Danny took another sip of water. "I remember figures coming at me with knives. Cutting me. I tried to kick them, but I couldn't seem to get my legs to work."

"Lack of coordination is a side effect of the drug," reminded Martin. "Can you describe any of your attackers?"

Danny tried to focus his memories, but couldn't pull what he needed from them. "I can't. They're just shadows, blurry shapes. Damn it, why can't I remember?" Danny's fist pounded the bed uselessly.

"You had Rohypnol in your system. We're lucky you can remember anything. You've already given us more information than we had any reason to expect," Martin soothed.

"It's not enough," insisted Danny in frustration.

"Okay, let's try to go at it from a different angle," suggested Martin. "You told me what you smelled and saw. You also mentioned a woman's voice earlier. Is there anything else you remember hearing?"

Suddenly a memory that Danny's subconscious had diligently suppressed rose to the surface. _'Oh God, help me. Please stop. I'm begging you, please make it stop.'_ Nausea swirled in his gut as Danny remembered. "Ryan, begging me to help him," Danny's tone was thick with self-loathing. "He needed me and I ran."

"We don't know everything that happened, yet," cautioned Martin. He was certain that Danny wouldn't have left another behind if he'd had any choice.

"What's to know?" demanded Danny raging more against himself than Martin. "I'm here, and Ryan's not!"

"Danny . . ."

"Where's Ryan?" Danny's voice got even louder.

"We're looking for him right now," admitted Martin. "Which is more than we would be doing if you hadn't called for help. No one else has reported Ryan missing." Martin grabbed an uninjured spot on Danny's arm to try to get him to listen. "You were drugged. You were tortured. You were suffering from shock. Yet, despite all that you still escaped and managed to call for help. Danny, you did everything humanly possible to help your friend."

"But what if it wasn't enough? What if I left him to die?" whispered Danny.

Martin wasn't sure how to battle the desolation in Danny's voice. "What ifs aren't going to help Ryan," Martin pointed out, perhaps a bit too harshly. "You did the best you could under the circumstances. You need to accept that and move on." The words sounded reasonable, but Danny didn't look anywhere near acceptance. Realizing they'd hit a roadblock, Martin shifted their path with another question. "Danny, do you remember firing your gun last night?"

"My gun?" Danny had forgotten that he'd been carrying his gun with him.

"Vivian found it in the alley where we found you," explained Martin. "It had been recently fired and your ammo was spent. She couldn't find any shell casings, so we think you may have used it before you got to the alley. Maybe during your escape." The last statement was a half question that Martin hoped might prompt Danny's memory.

Danny felt more confused than ever. He didn't remember slipping free of his bonds or escaping his capturers, but surely he couldn't have forgotten firing his gun, especially in a life or death situation. When he tried to concentrate on his gun, his mind went blank. Then a terrifying thought presented. If Danny had been so high on Ruffies that he didn't remember firing his gun, how did he know he hadn't shot some innocent who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time? "I'm sorry, Martin, I don't remember anything about the gun," Danny finally answered roughly.

Realizing that Danny didn't have anything left to give, Martin stopped the tape recorder. "That's alright, Danny. You did really good. You gave us a lot to work with. Why don't you try to rest again?"

Danny looked away and swiped at the side of his face, trying to erase his tears before they could fall. "There's nothing restful about those nightmares," he admitted shakily.

"Then I guess it's a good thing you've got a brother like me to wake you up if they start again," declared Martin.

Danny looked back at Martin. Swirling emotions choked his words, but Martin could see the thankfulness in his eyes. Danny took one more sip of water and settled back into his pillow. He'd just started to doze when he jerked awake, the panicked confusion returning.

Martin set his hand on Danny's shoulder. "You're safe. Jack's right outside. I'm right here. Just rest." Martin's words anchored Danny against the turmoil of his own mind. Seconds later he was asleep.

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><p>Vivian walked down the hospital hallway towards Jack, trailed by two other agents. Reaching his side she joined him in looking through the window to Danny's room. Martin was in a chair beside Danny's bed, one hand resting on Danny's arm, his head pillowed on the edge of the bed. "How long have they been like that?" she wondered.<p>

"Martin finally dozed off about fifteen minutes back," said Jack. "He took Danny's statement about an hour ago. It wasn't easy for either of them, but Martin won't leave Danny's side." Jack shook his head ruefully. "He'll probably get more sleep here than he would at home."

"That chair looks even more uncomfortable than the one at work," murmured Vivian. Before Jack could ask what she meant by that, she was speaking again. "Agents Fairfax and O'Malley came down to relieve you and Martin of guard duty." Agent Fairfax nodded to Jack, while O'Malley offered his hand.

"Doctor Hyde and Nurse Brockmeyer are the only staff cleared to enter the room. Let Martin sleep until lunch if possible. I want him rested before he tries to start working the case," instructed Jack.

"Speaking of the case," started Vivian. "Samantha and Elena came up with something at the pizza joint. One of the waitresses confessed to serving Danny and his friend, Ryan, the drinks with drugs in them. She claimed that a redheaded woman of maybe thirty told her that if she didn't do it, she'd be dead before the sun rose. About fifteen minutes after the waitress gave them their drinks, the redhead entered the front of the restaurant with another woman and two other men, and gathered up Danny and Ryan like they were picking up a couple of friends that had overindulged."

"Sounds well planned and executed," commented Jack. "Something tells me this isn't the first time they've snatched someone."

"The good news is the waitress did hear Ryan refer to the redhead as Elizabeth. Elena said the waitress was so scared that she's begging to be put into protective custody. Apparently she afraid the redhead might find out she talked to us," added Vivian.

Jack snorted. "She drugged an FBI agent and now she wants us to protect her? Yeah, right, that's going to happen," was his sarcastic reply.

"She sounded pretty desperate to me." Vivian shrugged. "Anyway, we showed her the sketches that Officer Verna did, and she recognized the second perp form the alley."

"But not the first?" asked Jack.

"No," insisted Vivian.

"Well, that seems to gel with what Danny could give us," commented Jack. "Ryan was apparently worried about some ex-girlfriend, and Danny remembered hearing a woman's voice during the attack. It's starting to look like this was about Ryan, not Danny."

"Kidnapping, torture, that's pretty extreme just to get back at your ex," pointed out Vivian. "And why go after Danny? She could have just as easily grabbed Ryan when he was alone."

"Extreme is the word for it," agreed Jack. Then he lowered his voice. "Dr. Hyde said he found light bruising around four of Danny's wounds. Bruising consistent with skin that's been sucked on. Two of the swabs he cleaned Danny's wounds with came back positive for saliva."

Vivian was shocked to hear that. "So what? Ryan's ex is a woman with a vampire complex, that decided Danny looked tasty?"

"Or she's a sexual sadist," suggested Jack. "Either way we need to learn more about her. I'm going to dig into Ryan's recent past and see if I can find out who 'Elizabeth' is. I also want to know if the others she's been seen with are getting paid or if they're her followers. I want you to liaison with SVU. Let them know what we've got so far, and find out how closely their case matches up. I'll have Sam and Elena focus on the canvas between the pizza parlor and the alley we found Danny in. They're almost twelve blocks apart. Hopefully someone saw something."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Vivian. She nodded to Agents Fairfax and O'Malley, and headed off to meet with the NYPD's Special Victims Unit.

Jack hovered by Danny's window another minute, watching his two agents sleep. The fact that Danny's skin was almost a shade lighter than Martin's drove home how much blood he'd lost during the night. "No one gets into that room," instructed Jack. Though it now seemed the attack hadn't been related to Danny's job, Jack still felt that his agent was in danger. The guards would stay until he was convinced otherwise. Once he'd received two firm 'yes sirs', Jack left for the office.

* * *

><p>On the fourth ring the phone was finally answered. "This had better be important," warned a gravelly voice.<p>

"Bathory is in New York and she's already attacked three innocents," reported the caller.

"Any deaths?" came the quick demand.

"Not yet, but she and her group are apparently holding some guy so they can play their 'games' with him. Another managed to escape, but that could create new problems. Not only is he compatible, but he's also a federal agent," warned the caller.

"Compatible?"

The caller understood the implied question. "It wasn't easy, but I was able to get a look at his blood tests. There's no sign of infection."

There was a heavy sign. "I thought Montreal was going to take care of her."

"They're claiming that she disappeared just hours before their Reckoning. She may have been tipped off. Are you returning to deal with her?" the caller asked hopefully.

"I made a blood oath to help eliminate Gains. I won't be able to return to New York for several more days. There haven't been any deaths yet, so just keep an eye on her and contact me if the situation escalates." There was a hesitation, and then the voice continued. "If you should happen to be questioned by investigators; try to be helpful. The more time she spends trying to avoid them, the less she'll have to prepare for us."

"That's risky," pointed out the caller.

"She's the one that started attacking people in my city. She can damn well deal with the consequences!"

"What about the law enforcement agents she may slaughter along the way?"

"Bathory might be insane, but she's not stupid. She'll move on to greener pastures rather than be hunted like a criminal," was the prediction. "I can't talk any longer. Call me when you have something new to report."

The dial tone buzzed for several seconds before the caller put the phone back in its stand. "I hope she doesn't kill too many people proving you wrong."


	2. Frustration and dead ends

**Author's notes:** Thank you to those that reviewed the first chapter. I hope you'll continue to enjoy this bit of Halloween fancy.

Mirella - I agree, Danny and Martin are the best FBI pair ever and I'm glad you're enjoying the way I've protrayed them. I'll be adding a new chapter each week until the story is finished.

Cathy - I'm glad to hear that posting here makes it easier for you to find my stories. I'm not sure about a sequel . . . that might have to wait until next Halloween.

* * *

><p>There was just something incredibly wrong about being tired out by an elevator ride. Damning his pride, Danny leaned back against the elevator wall and bit his lip to suppress a yawn. So much for his plans to jump into the investigation of Ryan's disappearance, at this rate he'd be lucky to make it down the hall to his apartment without passing out. Beside him, Martin was trying to look like he wasn't watching Danny, even though he obviously was. The exhausting trip home from the hospital hadn't ended Jack's insistence that Danny needed to be protected, at least until his attackers had been identified. An hour ago, he'd found Jack's assumption that he couldn't protect himself, a stinging insult. Now he was more than ready to swallow the hurt feelings if it meant getting to lay his head down somewhere. Dr. Hyde's warning that the blood loss would continue to make him tired was starting to look like the biggest underestimation ever made. When they reach the right floor, it took all of Danny's energy just to set one foot in front of the other. He didn't realize Martin had stopped until he stumbled into his back.<p>

Suddenly Martin was grabbing his arm and pushing him protectively back against the wall. Martin pulled his gun; aiming at Danny's door with one hand while retrieving his cell phone with the other. Even with all those clues it still took Danny's muddled mind precious seconds to realize what was wrong. His apartment door was open. Not all of the way, just enough to make it obvious that someone had accessed it since last night.

"Jack, where are you?" demanded Martin in a harsh whisper. "Someone's been in Danny's apartment. They left the door open." There was a momentary pause. "Understood." Martin quietly folded the cell and slipped it into his pocket.

"Waiting for back-up?" guessed Danny, now that the adrenalin rush had woke him up. He knew that Jack probably wasn't too far away, since he'd promised to pick up Danny's abandoned car and bring it over. That Danny had lost his keys along with his memory didn't seem alter Jack's decision. Martin nodded to Danny's question, never shifting his aim from Danny's door. Several tense seconds passed. "It doesn't sound like anyone is in there," Danny whispered.

"They had plenty of time to come and go last night or this morning," agreed Martin, not relaxing in the least. "Still, Jack will be here in five minutes."

Just under four minutes later, the elevator chimed and Jack stepped out, his gun at the ready. Moving up alongside Danny, he nailed his subordinate with a sharp look. "Stay behind us!" Danny wasn't even inclined to argue. The adrenalin pulse of a few moments before was already fading.

Jack and Martin moved forward together, Jack opening the door while Martin stepped in to clear the room. It took them just moments to search the modest apartment for intruders. Finding none they walked back to the living room where Danny waited.

He barely noticed their return, his gaze locked on a round end table and the things it held. Danny's missing gun holster with his badge still clipped on. His keys anchored a piece of paper beside it.

"Let me," insisted Martin when Danny moved to pick up the note. Martin slipped on a pair of white gloves used to gather evidence. Picking up the paper he shot a hesitant look towards Danny as he started to read. "Daniel, You left these behind during your hasty exit last night. I've returned them to show that I harbor no ill will regarding your inappropriate behavior. In truth, I found your heroics to be delightfully entertaining. Rest assured, we'll be coming to reclaim you just as soon as Ryan has learned his place. I hope you're looking forward to our reunion as much as I. Eternal regards, Elizabeth."

"Okay, Danny you need to pack a bag so we can get out of here. You'll want enough for several days," ordered Jack.

"What?" Danny was still trying to absorb the letter and is ramifications.

"You can't stay here," Jack spelled it out. "She knows where you live and she had plenty of time to make duplicates of those keys. We need to move you to a safe house, right now." Jack grabbed Danny's arm and directed him to the bedroom. Over his shoulder he ordered Martin, "Get our lab people over here, they need to check everything."

* * *

><p>Samantha tossed the printout back on her desk. Frustration had become a familiar companion to the FBI's Missing Persons Unit. In the three days since Danny's attack, their team had vigorously pursued every viable, as well as a few not so viable, leads. Yet they were no closer to finding Ryan Saluke or his kidnappers. That the Special Victims Unit seemed to be hitting the same dead ends on their related case was no consolation. Most of their potential witnesses were too afraid to speak about 'Elizabeth', though few could articulate why the mysterious redhead terrified them so. They wouldn't even know her last name if not for Harold Pembroke, the lone witness willing to volunteer information on their suspect. Martin had taken an unusual dislike to the man, but even he couldn't deny that everything Pembroke stated had panned out.<p>

_"So you saw two men and two women helping these men," Samantha slid photos of Danny and Ryan across the interrogation room table, "into a van?"_

_"Yeah, that was them. Though helping probably isn't the right word. Neither of these boys looked like they could stand on their own, they were practically being carried. I should have realized something was up when I saw Elizabeth was with them."_

_"And how do you know Elizabeth," demanded Martin sharply._

_"I've known her for years. Back when she used to go by the name of Hastate, before she changed it to Bathory." Harold didn't seem offended by Martin's manor._

_"She changed her name to Elizabeth Bathory, as in the Hungarian Countess who was walled up in her own chambers for torturing and killing as many as 600 girls, so she could drink and bathe in their blood?" asked Martin incredulously._

_"So you've heard of her too. Even when she was still Lizzie Hastate she was never quite right in the head. Then a couple of years ago she decided that she was really Bathory reincarnated, and it was time to pick up where she had left off. I guess she's given up on girls and moved on to larger prey." Harold shook his head in distaste. "She's one nut job I'd definitely prefer to steer clear of."_

_"You do that, Mr. Pembroke. It will be better for everyone if you stay out of our way." Martin ignored the look Samantha shot him. Something about Pembroke set every one of his nerves on edge._

_Samantha pulled copies of the two sketches Officer Verna had drawn of Danny's attackers. "Were these the men you saw with Ms. Bathory?"_

_Harold studied the drawings for a few seconds. "I don't recognize this guy," he said of the full sketch, then he tapped the partial image, "But this fellow is a Romanian that goes by the name of Petru. The woman that was with them is Lateesha Abyad. She's been following Elizabeth around for years."_

_"Do you know where we could find Ms. Bathory and her friends?" asked Samantha._

_"Hell, I didn't even know she'd returned from Montreal until I saw her the other night. I suppose you could look at her father's old properties. I'd heard she inherited them when he died," offered Harold. "Not to be rude, but is this going to take much longer? I've got a business to run."_

_"I think we're finished for now. Thank you for coming in Mr. Pembroke. You've been very helpful," Samantha shook his hand._

_When the same hand was offered to Martin he pointedly ignored it. "I'll have an agent escort you out of the building." Then he signaled to the agent waiting outside the door._

_Once Pembroke was gone Samantha had to ask, "What were you doing antagonizing our only helpful witness."_

_"Pembroke wasn't giving us that information just to be a good citizen. He was playing us somehow, I know it," insisted Martin. Samantha just shook her head at Martin's sudden paranoia and left the room._

Verifying Harold's information told them that 'Elizabeth Bathory' had been born Elizabeth Hastate right here in New York, forty seven years ago. Sam was wondering what kind of surgery she'd undergone since she looked at least fifteen years younger than that. About sixteen years ago she'd taken up residence in Hungary and changed her name. She became something of a nomad, never staying in any one country for more than year. Speaking to the various law enforcement agencies of the countries she'd visited brought a familiar litany of suspicion. She was known to practice some heavy duty S&M, and was suspected to be involved in drugs. She was also the common denominator in dozens of missing persons cases spanning eight different countries. Samantha wasn't sure what had prompted Bathory to return to New York, she just wished the woman had left Danny out of her sick games.

Danny had returned to work the second day after his attack. On the surface he seemed to be bouncing back quickly. Jack had vetoed any fieldwork, so Danny had thrown himself into research, learning everything he could about the seventy-odd properties that Bathory had inherited from her father. Each hour that passed with no word on Ryan Saluke seemed to wear on Danny. He was also chafing at the protective custody Jack had set up. It was easy enough to ignore at work, but Danny hadn't liked staying at the safe house, which was really an apartment in China Town, or the forced quality time with his coworkers.

Elena was with him at the apartment right now. The two had left work about three hours ago, after Danny had knocked a chair over in frustration at yet another dead end. Fearing one of the computers might be next, Jack had ordered Danny to leave, get some food and try to relax. Martin had called in a little while ago to report that the search of yet another of Bathory's properties had turn up no new leads. Hearing about Danny's mini-meltdown, he'd decided to head straight to the apartment to relieve Elena, so she could have at least a little time with her daughter before putting her to bed.

"Hey, Samantha," called Vivian from her own desk. "Are you having any luck with the phone records?"

"No, I can't find a phone, not a land line or cell, listed in her name. I've been trying to check phones connected to her properties, but with so many it's like looking for a needle in a haystack," admitted Sam.

"Well, I finally got her financials for the last couple of days. There aren't any store purchases that we can track her with, but she has been withdrawing sizable amounts of cash from several ATMs in the TriBeCa area," shared Vivian.

"The alley where Danny was found was in TriBeCa," remembered Samantha.

"Do we know how many of Bathory's properties are in the same area?" asked Vivian.

Samantha walked over to Martin's desk. A map of Manhattan was cluttered with colorful stickpins, but Sam was only interested in the ones stuck in TriBeCa. "There are eleven properties that Bathory either owns or has a financial interest in. The two closest to the alley were checked by Martin today, which leaves nine strong possibilities." A small wave of relief lifted Samantha's spirits a bit. Finally, they seemed to be on to something.

"Let's start focusing on those nine," suggested Vivian. "I'll update Jack."

* * *

><p>Martin parked his car along the curb, waiting for traffic to clear before trying to exit. Moving up the stairs to the apartment building, he passed two police officers. Getting an idea, he made an about face and approached the officers. "Hang on guys. Have you got a minute?"<p>

The officers stopped. The veteran female looked inquiringly at Martin, while the younger black male regarded him with mild suspicion.

Martin pulled out his credentials. "If you've got the time, I was hoping you could help me out with something?" When there were no immediate objections Martin pressed on in a quieter done. "I've got a partner upstairs, who's on his third day of being in protective custody. He's going stir crazy, and I wanted to smuggle him out to the gym for an hour or two. The problem is if the other agent upstairs shadows us there, she's going to miss tucking her daughter into bed for the third night in a row. If there's any way you could just follow us there?" Martin entreated.

The younger man's suspicion had eased as Martin spoke. The veteran asked, "Are you planning to take him to Shamansky's?" It was a favorite gym with many in law enforcement.

"Yeah, I thought giving him a little time on a bag might prevent him from putting his fist through a wall," explained Martin. "He's just up on the fourth floor. I can be back down here with him in maybe five minutes."

"You've got your escort then," agreed the veteran. "Assuming we don't get other orders before you get back down here."

A grin lit Martin's face. "Thanks. I'll be back before you know it." He was jogging up the stairs before he'd finished speaking. The younger officer leaned back against the patrol car to wait. Three minutes had passed when gunfire erupted from within the building, one bullet breaking through a window.

"Shots fired at Remington Apartments, fourth floor. Requesting immediate backup. FBI agents may be involved," radioed the veteran as she and her partner raced to help.

* * *

><p>"So what's that song you keep humming?" asked Danny. Once he'd settled down a bit Danny had to admit, if only to himself, that he'd been acting like a jerk today. Ryan's case was looking more and more hopeless. On top of that Danny could barely think through the guilt of having left Ryan behind, which is what had to have happened even if Martin didn't think so. Still, none of that was the team's fault. Well, Jack could be blamed for insisting upon the smothering protection. But it wasn't fair to make the rest of the team suffer for Jack's decision.<p>

"Humming?" Elena hadn't even realized that she'd been doing it.

"Yeah, something like . . ." Danny did his best imitation of the tune Elena seemed to have stuck in her head.

Elena looked a tad embarrassed when she recognized the song. "My daughter has a small part in the school play. She's so excited she keeps singing her solo over and over again. 'I'm the littlest pumpkin in the patch, but I'm proud of what I am.'"

Danny chuckled, "I suppose there are worse things to get stuck in your head. When is the play?"

"A week from Friday," replied Elena. "My mother was supposed to finish her costume today, so I'll likely get a preview of the performance when I get home."

"Sounds cute. At least you'll be getting some entertainment tonight." Danny winced at the bitter undertone in his own words.

"I don't think I'll be the only one," countered Elena. "Martin said he had something planned for tonight, when he called earlier."

"Probably greasy cheese burgers and cold fries," discounted Danny. "Martin has no concept of good food."

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. "Speak of the Devil. Maybe you can start his culinary lessons," she teased.

"Right," dismissed Danny, looking back at the files he'd insisted on bringing from the office. He didn't notice Elena check the door's peephole, or see her try to step back and pull her gun.

Elena barely got out a warning, "Danny!" before the apartment door slammed into her knocking her into the wall.

Danny was on his feet and diving for the gun he'd left on the counter even before he identified the men he'd struggled with in the alley. A flying tackle knocked him to the floor before he could reach his weapon. Danny struggled against the weight pinning him to the floor. His whole body bucked, knocking the attacker off him. The respite was short lived as a booted foot kicked him in the side repeatedly until he collapsed in agony. Feeling someone grasp his arms and pull them behind him, Danny tried to flip over and dislodge his assailant. His adversary was unfazed by this, twisting Danny's arms until the pain screamed through him, forcing him to stop his struggles. Danny sucked in deep breaths of air to replace the oxygen already spent in the fight. Even that was used against him as a gag was shoved into his open mouth. He shook his head to little effect. Just like everything else of late, his efforts fell short. A thin band around his wrists and a familiar zip told him that he'd just been bound with plastic ties.

One of the men from the alley roughly pulled Danny to his feet, turning him about to face the rest of his captors. Three of them were men, including the one still holding his arm, hadn't Sam said his name was Petru? One of the other two was the other man from the alley but the third man Danny didn't recognize. There were also two women. A beautiful and coolly sophisticated redhead that Danny just knew was Ryan's 'Queen Hell Bitch' Elizabeth; and a tall, dusky skinned woman that hovered at her Elizabeth's elbow. Danny's eyes continued to search the room until they landed on Elena's form slumped on the floor near the now closed front door.

"Surprised to see me? Surely you didn't think I'd forget about you. After all, it's not every day a girl like me gets to meet a genuine hero." Elizabeth let her fingers trail possessively across Danny's chest, and then they darted to his forehead, her touch bringing a sting. "Looks like you have a bit of a scratch." Elizabeth showed Danny the small smudge of blood on her fingertips. Seconds later the fingertips entered her mouth where she sucked the blood away like it was melted chocolate.

"My lady," spoke up the man Danny didn't recognize. "What do you want to do with this one?" he asked as he knelt down next to Elena. "Kill her, leave her or bring her along?" The man lifted Elena's head by her hair revealing a bruised temple and a split lip. "You have to admit she looks like she'd make a tasty morsel," encouraged the man, one hand snaking down to grope Elena's breasts.

Danny reflexively jerked against his restraints, cursing though his gag. Not that it helped Elena any. Looking at Danny, Elizabeth smiled again. "Buckingham, you are such a predictable hedonist, but in this case I think you're right. I do believe our new friend would be quite upset if we left the girl behind. Make sure she doesn't wake up and move her down to our van."

Buckingham pulled a syringe out of his pocket, injecting Elena with its contents. Danny's hopes dwindled. Elena likely already had a concussion; God only knew how the poison they were injecting her with would complicate things. She might never wake up. Buckingham then slung Elena's limp body over his shoulder and carried her out the door.

Elizabeth placed her hand on Danny's chin, forcing him to turn away from the door Elena had disappeared through with a surprisingly strong grip. "How much she suffers depends entirely upon you. Give me what I want, Daniel, and I'll let her go," she promised.

The gag prevented him from calling her the liar he knew she was, but the rage in his eyes easily telegraphed his distrust.

The low hum of a vibrating cell interrupted Elizabeth's lies. "Yes? Really? Allow him up." Closing the cell Elizabeth smiled at Danny again. "If you won't cooperate for Elena's sake, perhaps you will for Martin's."

She may have well have punched Danny in the gut. He barely noticed being forced to his knees, but he couldn't ignore the blade Elizabeth placed at his neck, as Petru and the other man from the alley moved close to the door to ambush Martin. Danny sought frantically for some way to give a warning. Elena was already captured because of him; he couldn't let it happen to Martin too. The blade at his throat cut the skin, as Elizabeth seemed to read his intentions. Not that it mattered. Even without the blade he couldn't shout a warning, bound and gagged as he was. The utter silence in the room made it easy to hear the distant ping of the elevator, and the steady footfalls coming ever closer. In desperation Danny threw his whole body to the side. The painful sting in his neck was worth it when he heard the satisfying shatter of the two glasses that fell off the end table.

Elizabeth yanked Danny back under control. Her hands threading through his hair to pull his head back so he was forced to look up at her. The blade was once again at his neck, this time sitting on his jugular. "Sooner or later you _will_ stop fighting me, hero," she vowed.

For the second time the front door crashed in. "FBI! Drop your weapons and surrender!" Hearing Martin's voice brought a mixture of hope and fear. The noise had been enough to let Martin know there was trouble, but Martin's quick response told him that Martin hadn't called for backup.

The man from the alley rushed at Martin and promptly received two bullets for his trouble. Petru came at Martin from his other side before he could adjust his aim. As the two struggled for control of the gun it went off again shooting through the ceiling into the apartment above. Martin fought with everything he had, but Petru was slowly gaining the edge in their battle. Slammed into the wall, Martin lost his footing. It was enough for Petru to swing Martin into the counter, hammering his wrists into the edge with numbing impact. The third such blow was followed by the clatter of a falling gun. Martin was quick enough to kick the gun out of Petru's reach, but Petru was more interested in immobilizing Martin. Within seconds the FBI agent was on his stomach being secured by his own handcuffs.

Pulled up to his knees, Martin quickly locked eyes with Danny. Danny was bound and gagged, the blood on his face and neck telling of the struggle he'd given. Danny's eyes seemed to be apologizing to Martin for their circumstances, but Martin couldn't afford the time it would take to reassure Danny, especially when he didn't know how this would end. Elena was conspicuously missing, but even concerns for her had to wait. The only option left to Martin was to stall for time. "Your friend's going to bleed to death if you don't get him to a hospital soon." Martin nodded at the attacker he'd shot.

"An excellent point, Martin," replied Elizabeth agreeably. "Lateesha, would you help Carl down to the van?" The silent, slender woman that had melded into the shadows stepped forward, picking up Carl like he was nothing more than a jug of milk. "Do you have any other helpful suggestions?"

"Yeah, I suggest you surrender. The police are already on the premises," Martin warned. Elizabeth chuckled and hoisted Danny to his feet before shoving him carelessly into Petru's waiting arms. Petru turned the battered agent around and forced him down next to Martin. Martin offered what support he could as Danny listed against him. "Are you alright, man?" Danny nodded weakly, his eyes swimming with guilt. Martin knew that Danny felt responsible for not finding Ryan yet. It looked as though he now felt responsible for Martin and probably whatever had happened to Elena, too. "This isn't your fault," Martin tried to convince his friend. "The only one responsible for what's happening is the 'Hell Bitch'," swore Martin.

"Such defiance, you're just like Daniel." Elizabeth strolled calmly across the floor to bend over Martin. "Even if the police are in the building right now, there is no way for them to reach us," she declared. Elizabeth crouched down to examine Martin more closely. She reached out to caress Martin's cheek and gasped in surprise. "More alike than I realized," she murmured to herself, taking Martin's jaw in an iron grip, she stared into his eyes.

"Elizabeth? What's wrong, my Lady?" The silent muscleman, Petru spoke for the first time, his Romanian accent clear to Martin.

"Can't you feel it?" demanded Elizabeth. "Martin is Chosen just like Daniel. They both are! This is no coincidence; this is destiny. I see what I'm meant to do now." Elizabeth's eyes took on a fervent glow. "Fate has gifted me with their transformation. And transform them I will; into the most glorious creatures this world has ever seen."

Martin had no idea what Elizabeth meant by transform, but he was starting to understand why this woman had been haunting Danny's nightmares since the night he was first taken. He was absolutely certain that he and Danny didn't want to be 'transformed' into anything that Elizabeth would consider glorious. "You're insane."

"Perhaps," conceded Elizabeth, "But soon enough you'll be begging to join me in my insanity." Elizabeth took Martin's mouth in a brutal kiss. When he refused to part his lips beneath her assault she bit, tearing his lower lip. Pulling back she licked his blood off her lips with a seductive smile. "Until you're ready, I think it's best if you slept."

Danny began to struggle beside him. Martin realized why when he saw the syringes. The jab in his arm was followed almost immediately by fuzzy vision and a weakness invading his limbs, seconds later the world drifted away.


	3. Trapped Within

**Author's note:** Thanks again to those who reviewed or added this story to their favorites list. There is something of a guest star revealed in this chapter, the person is a character from another TV series, but since he's only in a couple of scenes I didn't think it rated crossover status. Still, I'll give credit to anyone who can guess which TV series he's from.

* * *

><p>"Jack, could you come here for a second?" Samantha called across the lobby as Jack stepped off the elevator.<p>

Jack had just left the supposed 'safe house' were he'd seen obvious signs of struggle and more than a little blood on the floor. Three of his agents were missing with their guns left behind. Martin's gun was short by three bullets. One of the bullets, found in the apartment above, had been accounted for. Jack hoped that meant that Martin had gotten a piece of one or two of their kidnappers.

Samantha led Jack down to the basement to show him what she'd found. "Alright now the officers on the scene said that the stairway access had been blocked off forcing them to use a battering ram to take the door down." Jack nodded. "But they also said that the elevator wasn't working." Samantha motioned to the small control bay that maintained the elevators. "Someone was controlling the elevators, Jack. Using them to make sure that only the kidnappers would have direct access to the fourth floor."

"That fits with what Vivian got," said Jack. "Her witness reported seeing two people matching Elizabeth and Petru's descriptions carrying Danny and Martin down the fourth floor hallway, before getting on one of the elevators. Apparently they weren't bothering to rush, even though they could hear the sirens of more cops arriving on the scene."

"Whoever they had controlling the elevator brought them straight down here, away from the arriving police," theorized Samantha.

"But what's down here," wondered Jack. "It's not like this basement had access to a parking garage or the street. It's all storage down here."

"Not all," countered Samantha. "We followed a blood trail from the elevator to this corner over here." Sam showed Jack to a dark shadowy crevasse, and shined her light on the narrow old door there. "This connects to the building basement next door which then connects to a parking garage. I've got an agent looking for any security tapes the parking garage might have."

"I can't believe I missed this," protested Jack. "This wasn't on the blueprints. I checked them myself."

"I guess Bathory found a better set of blueprints than us," murmured Samantha. It seemed that no matter what they did they were always a step behind, and now half of their team was at Bathory's mercy.

"Keep working on the security tapes. I'm going to push for some warrants. I don't care if we have to raid every building she's ever stepped in. We're going to find Bathory and I'm going to get back my agents," vowed Jack.

* * *

><p>It wasn't the light that woke Martin. The flickering yellow bulb barely produced enough illumination to see by. Nor was it the throbbing pains in his head and arms. It was the sounds; moaning, panicked and low, that told him he had to wake up because someone needed him. "Danny?" Martin tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness sent him back to floor with a resounding thump. Taking several deep breaths against the new pains sprouting throughout his body, Martin slowly rolled over to his stomach. Pushing himself up with his arms he locked his joints waiting for the dizziness to pass. When he finally trusted himself enough to move, he crawled towards the moaning. It was quite possibly the longest, most difficult three feet he'd ever traversed. On the floor before him, Danny was tossing his head in denial of whatever nightmare plagued him. "Danny, come on man, wake up." Martin leaned heavily on the wall so he could shake his friend awake.<p>

Danny jerked beneath the touch, his eyes snapping open. For several seconds they skittered about, taking in their surroundings. Martin waited patiently for Danny to sort out their situation. "Martin?"

"Yeah, Danny," Martin's throat was scratchy from dryness.

"Martin, you're supposed to be waking me out of my nightmares, not joining me in them," Danny informed quietly.

Martin had to smile at Danny's assessment. A waking nightmare certainly described their current situation. "Sorry, brother. I'll try to do better next time. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been drugged and kidnapped. Again!" a bit of Danny's temper was returning.

Martin, however, suddenly found himself laughing. He wasn't even sure what it was about Danny's words that were so funny.

Danny looked at Martin with concern. "This isn't a laughing matter, Martin. We're in deep trouble."

"I know, but we're alive." Unspoken was the absolute certainty that also long as they stayed that way there was still hope. "Jack, Vivian and Samantha probably have half of New York searching for us by now." Martin set his hand on Danny's chest. "Our job is to hold on until they can find us."

Danny didn't point out that 'holding on' would likely include hours of pain, agony and torture. At least for the moment drugs weren't clouding his mind. He was also relieved that he wasn't alone, though he felt guilty for pulling his friends into his mess. "Elena!" The sudden memory of how the battered and unconscious agent had been carried away, spurred Danny to try to rise, but overwhelming weakness pulled him back to the floor.

"I didn't see her when I arrived," remembered Martin.

"They drugged her and carried her away just before you showed up at the apartment," said Danny, his eyes searching the small concrete room again. This time looking for their missing coworker, but there was nothing else to find in barren room. Danny covered his face with his hands and groaned. "She'd already been knocked out cold, when one of Elizabeth's men started groping her and saying what a tasty morsel she'd be."

Martin didn't know how to respond to that bit of information. It certainly didn't sit well that one possible reason they'd been left alone until now was because their capturers were focusing their perverted desires on Elena. Danny and Martin were quiet for a while; Danny sinking in guilt over what might be happening to Elena, and Martin sitting beside him offering what support he could through his presence and touch.

It was impossible to tell how much time passed before they started hearing noises outside their metal door; distant and muffled, possibly from another room. Still, it was enough to cause both men to tense. Danny forced his body into a sitting position, while Martin warily rose to his feet to approach the door. He leaned close to the door when he heard voices, but they were so indistinguishable that he couldn't even tell if the were male or female. He could also hear clatter and the sound of metal on metal but had no idea what it might mean. Futilely wishing for a window, Martin continued to try to decipher the noises beyond their cell. Martin had already decided that their tiny prison was mostly likely an abandoned janitor's closet in the basement or subbasement of one of Bathory's properties. He briefly considered shouting for help, but was certain that the only people in earshot were Elizabeth's people. He doubted he could have gotten a clear signal on his cell phone. Which was moot point since he and Danny had both been stripped down to their shirts and pants. Even their belts and shoes were gone. Martin shuddered to think what use Elizabeth's crew might find for their badges and credentials or worse yet, their guns.

A change in the pattern of noise had Martin stepping back. "They're getting closer," he warned Danny. Danny climbed to his feet and nodded to Martin. They didn't know what Elizabeth had planned for them on the other side of that door, but neither was willing to go along quietly.

Jingling keys unlocked the door. "You're both awake. Excellent." Elizabeth was flanked by the muscular Petru and the silent Lateesha. "That means we shouldn't have to drag you about any more."

"What did you do to Agent Delgado?" demanded Martin.

"_I_ didn't do anything to little Elena," teased Elizabeth.

"Then where is she?" asked Danny as he took an unsteady step closer to the door.

"Wouldn't you two rather leave this dank little room, and talk elsewhere?" countered Elizabeth, her inviting tone at odds with the situation.

"Tell us where Elena is," insisted Martin, setting his feet in a fighting stance.

Elizabeth pursed her lips in irritation. "It just so happens that I have no idea where she is. Buckingham was apparently even more taken with her than I realized, because he carried her away to parts unknown. Neither has been seen since they left that tiny apartment you were hiding in. You shouldn't worry too much though; Buckingham hardly ever kills his toys."

Martin barely bit back the comment that Elena wasn't a toy. "How do we know you aren't lying?"

Elizabeth smiled as if delighted by the question. "Join me out here, and you'll see that Elena is nowhere to be found. Ryan is waiting for you though." She turned her focus on Danny. "Wouldn't you like to see Ryan, Daniel?"

Danny stepped forward as Elizabeth baited him with his friend's name. Only Martin's hand on his chest kept him from walking straight into Elizabeth's waiting arms. Martin understood Danny's need to get to the friend he feared he'd left behind. Unfortunately, the look on Elizabeth's face said this was just the reaction she'd been hoping for. "Martin." There were so many unspoken messages when Danny said his name, a command . . . a plea . . . a request for understanding.

Martin locked eyes with Danny. They were nowhere near controlling this situation, and if they wanted to get out of this alive they needed to work as a team, trusting and protecting each other before everything else. Martin wasn't sure how much Danny picked up from their silent communication, but it was enough to cause him to step back. Danny was giving Martin the lead to make the next move.

Elizabeth watched the interaction with fascination. They were clearly already so much more than she had expected. The connection between them would only be amplified by the transformation, and by being the one to transform them she would not only become a part of that connection, she would control it. She realized that both men were too strong willed to bring to her way simultaneously. She would have to start with Daniel. Their previous encounter had given her a hold on his psyche, however tenuous. Once Daniel was completely hers, the two of them would transform Martin together.

"Would you step back from the door, please?" requested Martin using his best 'parent's dinner party' manners. He definitely didn't want to stay locked in this little room, but neither did he trust Elizabeth and her friends.

Elizabeth barely suppressed a smirk. "But of course, Sir Martin." Elizabeth and her followers took several simultaneous steps back. Then she gestured grandly to the room before them.

The large open room wasn't completely what Martin was expecting. It was definitely a basement of some sort, with a cement floor and walls. There were no windows that Martin could see, but the surprisingly high ten-foot ceiling secured four large chandeliers to light the room. Thick rugs decorated the floors and walls like he'd seen in castles. There was a modest kitchenette to the right, a king sized bed to the left, and the wall directly across the room was dominated by chains, and a rack of whips, blades and other implements the purpose of which Martin really didn't want to know. As soon as he crossed the door's threshold he was assaulted by the stink of dried blood.

"Oh God," moaned Danny his eyes squeezed shut. Martin realized the odor hanging in the air had probably triggered a flash back. When Elizabeth moved towards Danny, Martin quickly pulled his vulnerable partner behind him.

Elizabeth halted. "Please, gentlemen, make yourselves at home." She and Lateesha strolled over to the kitchenette, but Petru stayed where he was, his arms folded over his chest. Martin noticed he was blocking a second door just beyond the one they'd walked through. It was the only possible exit Martin could see.

"Martin," whispered Danny, putting a hand on his shoulder. Looking back at his partner he saw Danny transfixed by the bed. Then he noticed a slight movement in the thick covers. "It's Ryan," Danny declared. Martin kept an eye on Petru, while Danny moved swiftly to the bed. It wasn't until he was almost to it that he noticed the other figure beside his friend. A petite woman, probably just barely legal to drink, was snuggled up to his friend sucking determinedly at his wrist. Knowing that more was involved than a simple hicky, he ordered, "Back away from him, right now!" She lifted her lips from Ryan's bleeding wrist, but she didn't retreat, growling at him instead.

"Juliet," called Elizabeth. The petite blonde immediately scuttled away, darting meekly to her mistress's side. Elizabeth ran her fingers through long tresses. "Now darling, don't be rude. Daniel and Martin are going to be our friends. They just need time to learn how we do things."

Danny didn't acknowledge Elizabeth's comment. He noted that Martin was standing several feet away, staying between the bed and their capturers, watching Danny's back. Danny climbed onto the raised mattress, untying a silky sash from the bed to use as a makeshift bandage. He ignored the fact that the sash was yet another implement of Elizabeth's bondage fetish, and focused on wrapping it securely around Ryan's wrist to stop the bleeding. Ryan hadn't so much as sighed since Danny begun to work on him. Checking his pulse, Danny found it not only weak, but also faster than he expected. He didn't think that was a good indication. "Ryan, it's Danny. Time to wake up, man." Danny shook his friends shoulder. "Come one Ryan, I need you to talk to me." Even as he said the words another flashback hit him. He could hear Martin's voice in his memories, balanced precariously between urgency and desperation. 'Danny, I need you to keep talking to me.' Danny glanced back at Martin. He'd moved to within a few feet of the bed, apparently to counter Lateesha's approach from the side. Danny was once again glad that Martin was with him, because he'd never heard Lateesha make a sound. Petru was still standing at the far side of the room, blocking their exit, while Elizabeth and Juliet were in the kitchenette. Elizabeth looked to be fixing drinks while Juliet was now feasting on a bowl of strawberries.

"Danny?" Danny almost didn't hear Ryan's weak sigh. "What the hell are you doing here? I told you to run and not look back." The word 'run' echoed through Danny's mind with Ryan's voice, but no explaining memory accompanied it.

"Don't worry about me, Ryan. Everything's going to be all right. I'm going to get you out of this," vowed Danny.

Ryan shook his head, " . . . don't understand. I'm just a toy, you're her Chosen." There seemed to be so much implied in that last word that Danny simply didn't understand. Though he did remember that Elizabeth had said that Martin was 'Chosen', right before she'd drugged them both.

"Danny." This time it was Martin speaking. Martin nodded to Elizabeth who was approaching with two wine goblets in her hands.

"Would either of you gentlemen care for a refreshment?" Elizabeth spoke like the diligent hostess of a party. Her voice was calm and deceptively inviting.

"I don't drink alcohol," said Danny, the response a long time habit.

"Daniel, I assure you. I never waste the good crystal on mere wine or Champaign." Watching Elizabeth swirl the red liquid in the goblet, Danny knew she was offering them blood.

"My name is Danny," he insisted, needing to change the subject.

Elizabeth scoffed. "Danny is a name for an untested child. Daniel suits you much better. It's a name of courage and destiny. Tell me, do you think you could face the lions in their own den? I believe you could."

At this moment Danny felt that Elizabeth was far more dangerous than a den of lions. "I want you to let Ryan go." Danny new it was risky to place demands on their abductor, no matter how agreeable she was being, but he still hoped he could negotiate them into a better position.

"I would be willing to release Ryan for the right incentive. After all, I know he's learned better than to deny a lady's wishes, especially when I'm that lady. Tell me, Daniel, will you surrender to my will for Ryan's freedom?" asked Elizabeth. She set one of the goblets on the bedside table, taking a sip from the other as she sat upon the edge of the bed.

"I will do anything you want . . ."

"Damn it, Danny!" cursed Martin.

" . . . Anything you want," Danny pressed on, "if you release Ryan, Elena and Martin."

Elizabeth let out a throaty chuckle. "Nice try, Hero, but I can't give you what I don't have. And I've already told you I don't have Elena. Besides which I have special plans for our charming Sir Martin." Elizabeth shot Martin with a predatory look. "You can still have Ryan's life, but I can see where you wouldn't think that was a worthy trade. There isn't much left of him anymore." As she spoke she walked her fingers across the comforter covering Ryan's legs. Ryan shuddered violently beneath Elizabeth's near touch. "How about a trade? I give you Ryan's life and you give me twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes?" Danny was waiting to hear the catch.

"Twenty minutes, where you do as I ask and listen to what I say," explained Elizabeth.

"I won't do anything to hurt Martin or anyone else," vowed Danny.

"I won't ask you to, at least not yet," assured Elizabeth. "I don't expect you to bow before me so soon, Daniel. I just want a chance to explain to you what it is I want for you. That way you'll have something to think about later, when I reacquaint myself with all you have to offer."

Danny knew he couldn't trust Elizabeth, but neither could he pass up an opportunity to get Ryan out of this gilded dungeon. Martin obviously didn't like where this was leading. He remained quiet though, because the missing person had to take priority. On another level, Danny desperately needed to know that at least one of his friends was going to survive this mess. "It's a deal."

"Excellent!" Elizabeth smiled at her victory. Taking three more swallows from her goblet she slid off the edge of the bed and stepped back. "Lateesha, darling, if you'd be so kind as to indulge me?" She waved to Ryan's form.

Lateesha glided around the bed to stop at Ryan's side. Danny half expected her to hoist him up just as she'd done with Carl back in the apartment. Instead she reached out to set her hand on the side of Ryan's face. "Look at me, Ryan." Lateesha had a deep voice and her accent sounded almost South African, while her coloring and features indicated a mixed heritage. Ryan responded to the command by snapping open his dazed eyes.

"Wait a minute. What's she doing?" demanded Danny. He didn't like the vibe coming off of Lateesha. The air around her literally crackled with energy.

"Well we can't have Ryan running to the authorities with tales of torture and vampires," explained Elizabeth. "Lateesha is just muddling his memories a bit." When Danny looked ready to protest she pressed on. "This will be done, if you want him to make his way out of my care safely." Several more seconds passed as Lateesha stared intently down at Ryan before his eyes slid shut. Lateesha nodded to Elizabeth to signal that her job was done. Elizabeth offered Lateesha the remainder of her goblet, which Lateesha downed in four swallows. Lateesha then placed a kiss on Elizabeth's temple and carried the goblet back to the kitchenette. "Juliet, I want you to take Ryan out of here. Just drop him off at St. Vincent's like you did with that girl last week." A minute passed as the young blonde returned to the bed. She picked Ryan up, carrying the unconscious man slung over her shoulder. Petru let them out the door, immediately locking it behind them.

Danny climbed off the bed as soon as Juliet had taken Ryan. Martin was quickly at his side, watching him worriedly. "I had to do it," was the only explanation Danny could give for the deal he'd made with Elizabeth.

"I know," replied Martin, but it did nothing to ease his concern.

Elizabeth walked over to the two men smiling at them coyly, when as they tensed. Locking eyes with Danny she reached around behind him to the goblet she'd set on the bedside table earlier. Holding it up to him she said, "I've held up my end of the bargain, now it's time for my twenty minutes. The first thing I want you to do is drink every drop of blood in this glass." As revolting as the idea was, Danny accepted the crystal and tried steel his resolve. "Oh, and Daniel, I suggest you don't try to violate our agreement. Juliet would be just as willing to drop Ryan at a morgue as an Emergency Room."

Danny told himself that it was no big deal. He'd tasted blood before dozens of times from split lips and bitten tongues. Raising the crystal to his lips, Danny began to take large gulps deciding that finishing the drink quickly was the best course of action. Though the coppery tasting liquid was cool flowing over his tongue, it burned the moment it hit his stomach. "Every last drop," reminded Elizabeth when he started to falter. Concentrating to make sure not even a drop was spilled; Danny swallowed the last of the blood. He'd barely passed the goblet back to Elizabeth before the fire tearing through his gut doubled him over.

Martin crouched over his moaning friend. "That was more than just blood," he accused. "You drugged him."

"Actually, it would be more accurate to say I infected him," countered Elizabeth pleasantly. Martin had a moment of sheer terror, as all of the many blood born diseases paraded through his mind. But Martin stopped that train of thought when he realized that most infections shouldn't work this fast. "Change is often painful," continued Elizabeth, "but it doesn't last forever. Does it Daniel?"

Martin looked back to his friend who now seemed to be taking deep steadying breaths. "Danny?"

"I'm okay," Danny answered roughly. The fire in his belly had dispersed to a stream of warmth that flowed through his veins. His body felt loose and relaxed, even as his mind seemed to be reaching for a new level of awareness. Innumerable signals, whispers and cues were coming from all directions. Then he felt a soothing hand on his back. Once again Martin was anchoring him against the chaos and insanity swirling within him.

"Would it help to sit down?" Martin indicated to the bed. At Danny's nod, he helped his friend shift back onto the mattress. Martin caught Elizabeth studying them again, as she so enjoyed doing. This time he had trouble reading her expression perhaps because Elizabeth couldn't decide if she was happy with the way thing were progressing. Taking the opportunity presented, Martin asked, "What do you mean by infected?"

"Nothing that's going to kill him," assured Elizabeth. "Despite the plethora of pop culture drivel that abounds, we infected aren't dead or undead as so many believe."

"We?" whispered Danny.

"Vampires," shared Elizabeth. Given the history of the original Elizabeth Bathory, both Martin and Danny had been expecting a declaration of this sort, but that didn't make her words any more believable. "That's not the name we call ourselves, mind you. Personally, I much prefer Kindred. It has such an eloquence to it."

"Aren't you suppose to have fangs and lack a reflection?" asked Martin. He wasn't denying that Elizabeth was engaged in some very dangerous and tabooed behavior, but he had yet to see anything supernatural. Even Lateesha's strange staring session with Ryan could be explained away as some sort of hypnotic suggestion.

Elizabeth chuckled at Martin's challenge. "No, I don't have fangs or claws. I'm not bothered by sunlight, garlic, holy water or crosses. I'm not hindered by running water, and I don't require an invitation to go anywhere I please. I've never even bothered to try to control an animal with my mind or become a vaporous mist. And I most certainly don't have any need to sleep in a coffin filled with native soil."

Elizabeth stepped close to Danny so that she was leaning against his knees. His first instinct was to pull away, but her raised brow was enough to remind him of the deal they'd made. They were nowhere near the end of her twenty minutes. When she saw him acquiesce, she took his hand in her own, sending a triumphant smirk towards Martin. Caressing Danny's hand she pointed out, "My skin is warm to the touch, just as it should be. I need air to breathe just as anyone else. I could be hurt, I could drown." Martin filed away that reassuring fact. Elizabeth lifted Danny's hand to her breast with her right hand. "My heart beats; sending blood through my veins. You can feel my heartbeat, can't you Daniel?"

Danny was feeling a whole lot more than just her heartbeat, and he damned her for knowing how to play against his weaknesses. Yet something about her look indicated this was about more than just seduction. The pulse beneath his hand seemed to vibrate up his arm. He would almost swear he could hear it thumping in her chest. He knew he could feel his own heartbeat joining the rhythm of hers. Even as he felt his body betray him on every level, he noticed a pressure steadily building in the back of his mind. "What are you doing to me?" Danny barely forced out the desperate whisper.

"Stop it! You're hurting him," Martin's voice seemed to be coming from the other end of a long tunnel.

Elizabeth's responding laughter was much clearer, cascading over and through him. "I said I wouldn't force him to hurt others; I made no promises about what suffering he'd feel."

Danny knew he should be worried about what was being said, but he couldn't think past the pressure building in his mind. Even breathing was hard and the earlier warmth was now a fever in his veins. Distant chattering slowly collated into sentences, "He might have promised not to fight, but I never promised a damn thing!"

Elizabeth's left hand suddenly abandoned the back of Danny's neck, though he couldn't remember when she'd first rested it there. The harsh thump of a body striking a wall, opened eyes that Danny hadn't realized he'd closed. He couldn't make sense of the scene before him; Martin in a heap against Elizabeth's wall of torture, struggling to rise, his eyes wide with shock. "Martin?" Danny called to his friend.

"No, Daniel. Don't look at him. Look at me," Elizabeth's touch was surprisingly gentle; a soothing counter to the crushing force that was hammering his skull.

"Danny!" Martin's shout again drew his eyes. What he saw this time was enough to force back the pressure in his mind and allow him to focus on his partner. Martin was a trained FBI agent and Danny had seen him hold his own in more than one dangerous situation, but somehow Lateesha was manhandling Martin like a he was a petulant three-year-old. She easily slammed him back against the wall and raised his right arm, securing it in a manacle.

"No! Not Martin!" Danny begged, echoes of Ryan's cries whispering through his memories. "Please don't torture Martin." Danny was more than willing to beg Elizabeth for his friend's sake.

"Hush, Daniel," soothed Elizabeth caressing his cheek. "Lateesha's just making sure he doesn't interfere with our twenty minutes. You remember our deal don't you?" Danny nodded weakly. Not that Elizabeth's words reassured him. She enjoyed inflicting pain too much to hold off for very long. Twenty minutes? To him it felt like their deal had been made hours ago.

"Danny, don't give in. Don't let her win!" Lateesha slapped Martin soundly for his efforts, but something in Martin's defiant shout sparked a like emotion in Danny.

He may have promised to do what Elizabeth asked and listen to her, but open confrontation wasn't the only way to engage in battle. "Chosen. You called Martin and I Chosen. What did you mean?" he asked.

Elizabeth contemplated Danny, trying to decide if his interest was valid or just another way to stall. Deciding that a moment of explanation wouldn't hinder her plans she answered, "What makes us Kindred is a surprisingly common virus that for most people only creates indigestion. But for a rare few, perhaps one in thirty thousand, it does much, much more. Think of it as a viral gene therapy. For those few Chosen, it triggers a radical change on a genetic level, giving us extraordinary resistance to disease and the ravages of time. Some are changed in body, gaining strength and speed, while others develop unusual mental abilities. A rare few even get both." Elizabeth didn't add that she was fairly certain Martin would fall into the second category, while Danny would be in the last. She could already feel the power surging below the surface just waiting to be focused and released. It was intoxicating. Climbing up on the bed to straddle Danny's legs, Elizabeth gave him nowhere to retreat. "Now that I've answered your question, I want you to kiss me."

Danny, seeing no way to avoid it, planted a quick chaste kiss on Elizabeth's lips. But she wasn't willing to accept so little a favor. She kept the kiss going by molding her mouth to his and he didn't dare deny her. A loud pounding on the distant metal door gave Danny the excuse he needed to pull away.

Petru opened the door to a middle-aged man with thinning brown hair and glasses. Danny was beyond relieved when Elizabeth decided to slide off his lap to greet her new guest. "Mr. Pembroke, to what do I owe the honor?" asked Elizabeth, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

The name immediately sparked a memory of Samantha talking about interviewing a Harold Pembroke: the only witness willing to offer them useful information on Elizabeth. He also remembered that Martin hadn't trusted Pembroke. Looking to his partner now, still shackled by his right arm, Danny wondered if this was the same man. Martin met his questioning look with a nod.

"I'm here to warn you," stated Pembroke gravely.

"And here I thought you didn't care for me," she baited.

"I don't," assured Pembroke. "I'm warning you, that if you don't immediately release all four of your hostages, you will face sanctions and reckoning by the Kin."

"Well, I'm afraid you're a little late, Pembroke," replied Elizabeth carelessly. "I've already released Ryan Saluke, and as I explained to Daniel; it is Buckingham that has taken Agent Elena Delgado. You'll have to look for him if you want her back."

"Fine. Turn the remaining two over to me and we'll consider this issue closed," informed Pembroke.

Suddenly Pembroke found himself the sole focus of Elizabeth's intent stare. "You dare come into my house and order me about?"

"I'm representing James Gamble, Regent of the New York Kin," replied Harold with a bit less confidence.

"And where is James?" wondered Elizabeth. "Because if I remember Kindred law correctly, the most powerful Kindred is automatically the Regent of the city." Harold's face became grimmer by the moment. "James was the one who decided to go gallivanting halfway across the continent, to abandon his city. From where I stand New York is mine for the taking."

Harold looked disgusted. "You can't honestly believe the New York Kin will cede authority to you. You're a cannibal!"

"While you, like too many other Kindred, are weak. I don't blame you for that weakness. Most of our kind simply doesn't appreciate how much our transformation dictates what we become as Kindred." Elizabeth considered Harold for a minute, and then looked to Lateesha. "Do you think if we put him through our own version of transformation, it might make him something less than the pathetic worm that he is?"

Lateesha smiled. "There is only one way to find out." Harold didn't even have time to sputter. Petru grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the wall chaining him next to Martin. There the man slumped in stunned silence. He'd never expected to become one of Bathory's victims.

Pleased that the distraction had been dealt with, Elizabeth turned back to Danny. "So my Daniel, where were we?"

"Danny! The twenty minutes are up. Fight her!" Martin's declaration freed Danny in a way that echoed to the core of his being. Elizabeth didn't seem concerned that Danny wasn't her willing pawn any more. Her smirk, declaring her utter confidence in her ability to overcome any challenge Danny might mount. Maybe she was right and he couldn't beat her, but by God, he would go down fighting. Danny gathered every bit of guilt, confusion, rage, and fear that he'd suffered through for the past few days, focusing them to strengthen his will. He waited as she approached, blocking out Martin's shouts. She was almost on top of him when finally; he hit her with everything he had.

Danny's first thought as he watched Elizabeth sail more than twenty feet across the room was, 'Did I just do that?' Discarding any thought about the implications that he was apparently now a vampire or kindred or whatever the hell it was that he'd become. All that mattered was getting Martin out of here. Sliding off the bed he nearly fell to the floor his knees were so weak. He also found himself wondering why punching someone would make him lightheaded. Forcing his feet to take one step after another Danny almost didn't hear Martin's warning. He looked up just in time to see Lateesha and her backhand coming at him. Then there was darkness.

* * *

><p>Jack walked out of yet another Bathory property frustrated. Vivian had called in to say that her group had found an impressive stash of drugs at their location, but no one had found Bathory or his three missing agents. Glancing at his watch, Jack wondered how long it would be until Samantha checked in. She wasn't overdue yet, but recent events had left him a bit paranoid about the whereabouts of his remaining agents.<p>

"Jack," called a familiar but unexpected voice. Victor Fitzgerald didn't look his usual imposing self in street clothes and a FBI windbreaker, but he still had an air of authority that made others step back. Jack had known that Victor would be arriving in New York soon, but he hadn't expected him to show up in the middle of the investigation. Perhaps he should have. "Jack, is there anything new?"

"Not as much as I'd like," admitted Jack. "Since the last time we talked, the lab sent back a preliminary analysis on the blood stained carpet found in the safe house. The blood type doesn't match any of our agents." Jack didn't miss the relief that flashed through Victor's eyes. He'd had a similar reaction himself when he'd heard.

"That means Martin injured at least one of their attackers," suggested Victor.

"Yeah, that's the theory we're going with at the moment," agreed Jack. "It looks like they had already subdued Danny and Elena when Martin arrived."

"You mentioned something about the elevators being controlled?" inquired Victor. He was a man who'd always believed that information equaled power and right now information seemed in too short supply.

"They took over the elevator control system to facilitate their access to the safe house. We also found where they were tapped into the hotel's security. They could see the lobby, meeting rooms, all the entrances and exits, and who was on the elevators," explained Jack.

It didn't take Victor long to understand the implication. "They allowed Martin to walk in on them."

"We're making a lot of assumptions at this point, but my guess is when they saw Martin they decided to take him, too. Martin may have seen or heard something to make him think he was walking into trouble." Jack's cell phone rang. Seeing it was Samantha he said, "I need to take this. What have you got, Sam?"

"Well if we ever do find Elizabeth, we can add four counts of false imprisonment and two counts of murder to the list of charges," shared Samantha. "She had four homeless people locked in the subbasement of her Soho gallery. We also found two bodies. One looks like a junkie who may have died of blood loss. The second is a male with two gunshot wounds and a sliced neck."

Jack relayed to Victor, "It sounds like the perp Martin shot is now a body. They slit his throat rather than risk trying to get him medical attention." Victor grimaced while Jack directed Samantha. "It doesn't look like Bathory ever visited my location so I'm going to send some help your way. Get everything you can from the homeless people she was holding. We need more information on her." As soon as he heard her confirmation he ended the call. Before he could address Victor again someone else was calling his name.

"Agent Malone, we just got a call from SVU. They say Ryan Saluke was dumped at St. Vincent's emergency room doors. He's being treated now for stab wounds and blood loss."

"Tell them I'm on my way over," instructed Jack. "I want to speak to his doctor and sit in on the interview." The agent nodded and dashed away.

Victor was apparently looking over the gathering of law enforcement personnel swirling around them, but Jack could tell his eyes weren't seeing a thing. "What would you like me to do, Jack?" It was a bit odd having the Deputy Director put himself at Jack's disposal, especially considering their bumpy and sometimes adversarial relationship. Victor's mouth twitched at Jack's surprise. "I learned my lesson with the Teno assassination. Someone with better perspective needs to dictate the investigation."

"If you're thinking someone to keep a cool head that's not me. If I get a hold of Bathory I just might end up on charges myself," admitted Jack. "I lost half my team and I'm still not sure who leaked their location. I've got a jet-setting billionaire who spends her spare time dabbling in torture while leading a cult of new age vampires. Damned if she hasn't been one step ahead of us throughout this entire investigation."

"Hahn, in OPR, told me they had a lead on who might have leaked the safe house location," shared Victor.

"Great. I hope they fillet 'em alive," murmured Jack. "Who do we have in the Bureau with the most experience dealing with and/or profiling cults."

"There are a couple of names I can pull," said Victor. "How are you for manpower?"

"No problems there. Other units have been volunteering to help." Jack's cell phone trilled again. He did a double take at the caller information and immediately answered, "Elena?"

"Special Agent Delgado is currently at the New York Downtown Hospital, checked in under the name Inez Recillos. She has a moderate concussion and a few bruises, but other than that she's fine," stated a middle-aged man's voice. Jack couldn't place the accent beyond American Midwestern.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded Jack.

"I'm the undercover agent that been working Elizabeth Bathory for the past year; the guy that just saved Agent Delgado's life. Hell, I even helped Taylor get away the first time, never mind that he damn near shot me. But relax. I don't hold a grudge. I'm still going back in, and I'll get Taylor out. Assuming Elizabeth buys my excuse for vanishing halfway through a kidnapping." The last was muttered with a bit less certainty.

Jack didn't know if this mystery undercover agent was trust worthy or even real, but he wasn't leaving anything to chance. Grabbing the arm of a passing agent he ordered, "Get over to Downtown Hospital and check out their patient 'Inez Recillos'." Turning his focus back to the call Jack pointed out, "There was a name you forgot to mention. What about Fitzgerald?"

There was a moment of silence on the other side of the cell call. "When the hell did Martin get taken?" Jack was surprised to hear the stranger use Martin's first name when he'd been so formal discussing the others. "Crap, he must have walked in on Elizabeth while I was smuggling Delgado out," the man answered his own question.

"If you've had Delgado since the kidnapping why am I only hearing from you now?" demanded Jack.

"Do you have any idea how much paperwork and red tape are involved in admitting someone to the hospital?" When the joke fell flat the caller offered, "I had to make sure that none of Elizabeth's little cult suspected what I was up to."

"You said you were going back in. That means you know where they are," started Jack.

"Now, just hold up right there. You try to go head to head with Bathory and people will die. It will make Waco look like a picnic and you still won't get your agents back. It's better if I pull them out on the sly."

"And I'm supposed to just trust you with two of my agent's lives. I don't know you from Adam," said Jack. "Tell me where my agents are!"

"Actually, my name is Buck. And I'm sorry, Agent Malone, but I'm not giving you a choice." The call ended.

Jack tried to call Elena's cell phone back but the call went directly to voice mail. "Son of a bitch!" Jack looked back at Victor, who'd been listening to his side of the conversation. "If you really want to help, find out who the hell has an undercover agent on Bathory and didn't bother to tell us about it," suggested Jack. No way was he going to stop looking for his agents on some stranger's word.

"Do you know what organization he's part of?" asked Victor.

Jack shook his head. "I only know his name is Buck."

* * *

><p>Buck stared at the cell phone after he turned it off. He doubted he'd done much to reassure Agent Malone but he knew Elizabeth well enough to know that she'd kill Agent Danny Taylor and Martin before she let herself be forced to surrender them. Which meant their survival would be up to him.<p>

It never should have gotten this far. During the last few months he'd witnessed Elizabeth becoming more erratic. He'd even done what he could to temper her actions, all the while filing report after report to the local Regents on Elizabeth's violent behavior. He had started to wonder if anyone among the Kin was going to lend a hand. If he had been strong enough he would have killed her himself, but the simple fact was he just wasn't that powerful. His biggest asset was his ability to charm people, make them see him, as he wanted them to see him. Not even Elizabeth had been immune.

Buck sighed. He'd been raised to believe that women were everything that was good and pure in the world. Then he'd met Ella Gains and Elizabeth Hastate Bathory. Each one reminded him that men didn't corner the market on depravity. Now he needed to figure out a way to save two people from that depravity before it destroyed them.

Buck was about three blocks from Elizabeth's lair. While they had visited several of her properties during the two weeks they'd been in New York, Buck knew which one was Elizabeth's favorite for playing the worst of her sick little games. Buck's cell phone vibrated. When he checked it he saw a text message: _On our way. ETA 10am ~C._

Though Buck was relieved to know that help was on the way, he realized that it probably wouldn't arrive in time. Buck couldn't wait. He sent a text reply to explain: _Martin taken. Going back in ~B._

For more than one hundred and thirty years Buck and six of his friends had been living the life of Kin. For the most part they relied on their connection to each other and their determination for justice to keep them going in an ever-changing world. Someone had to make sure the Kin followed the rules that kept them from being a threat to society. But that didn't mean that they didn't occasionally get curious about the descendants they'd produced. Several of their group now qualified for great-great-great-grandfather hood, including one of Martin's ancestors. Buck didn't know if it was just Martin's appearance or if it had more to do with the stubborn streak he sometimes showed, but Vin had been keeping taps on his 'grandson' from a distance, for years. Buck knew it would weigh heavily on Vin, if Martin died through the actions of a Kin. Which was why Buck intended to see that didn't happen. One more text massage came through: _Understood. Watch your back ~C._ Buck smiled and tucked the device away. It was time to enter the lion's den.

* * *

><p>Martin's wrist ached and his right hand was swollen and bleeding, but he didn't stop twisting at the manacle. He knew he was making progress. Even if it meant tearing off several layers of skin he couldn't stop until he was free. Danny hadn't moved since they'd finished with him more than half an hour ago. Then Elizabeth, Lateesha and Petru had left the prisoners on their own.<p>

When Danny had first shuddered and moaned beneath Elizabeth's touch, barely gasping out the question, what was she doing to him; Martin had been determined to intervene. Then with nothing more than a flick of her wrist, Elizabeth had sent Martin flying across the room in a move that would have left most special effects experts green with envy. Danny had seemed only half aware of what was happening around him, and Elizabeth's continuous reminders of their deal had kept him from fighting her wishes.

Martin had barely gotten his feet back under him when Lateesha had grabbed him. He'd fought a lot of tough opponents in his life, and he hadn't always won, but nothing prepared him for her iron grip. He'd fought her with everything he had and she hadn't given so much as a millimeter. When Lateesha began chaining him, he'd continued to shout at Danny, hoping to break the spell Elizabeth was weaving. Though it earned him a bloody lip from Lateesha, it seemed to work. Danny held Elizabeth off with questions, and they both learned that she wanted to somehow make them like her. A vampire, though not quite the type they'd always heard about as children.

The arrival of Harold Pembroke had been a welcome distraction. Though Martin still didn't trust the man's motives, he was somewhat relieved to hear that others of her kind, the Kin as Harold called them didn't approve of her actions. He'd even gone so far as to refer to her as a cannibal, indicating that perhaps drinking human blood wasn't the norm. The distraction had ended too quickly when Elizabeth had Harold chained up on the wall next to him, but Martin had been watching the bedside clock and was happy to announce that the twenty minutes of Danny and Elizabeth's deal was over.

A look of determination took over Danny's face as he waited for Elizabeth to come at him. Martin tried to warn Danny to stay out of her reach; she seemed to be as strong as Lateesha, but Danny didn't move. Not until she was leaning over him and then he struck out with both hand shoving her back. That the shove sent her flying backwards in a repeat of Martin's earlier aerial maneuver surprised everyone. It also drained the last of Danny's strength. He stumbled a few feet before Lateesha caught him with a vicious backhand that knocked him unconscious.

"Crap," muttered Harold beside him. "The transformation has already started."

Lateesha grabbed a dagger off the rack and moved towards Danny's unconscious form with deadly intent. It was Elizabeth who became his sudden protector. "Don't kill him! It's working! Did you see how strong he is? The transformation isn't even an hour along. Can you imagine what he'll be like when it's done?"

"He'll be a threat. We should kill him now, while we still can," warned Lateesha.

"No, please. I can make this work," begged Elizabeth. The exchange caught Martin's attention not only because it was about Danny but also because it indicated that Lateesha, not Elizabeth had final say. Maybe Elizabeth wasn't the real power behind the cult. "I just underestimated him. We can bleed him to keep him weak, at least until we've broken his mind. Once that happens he'll be ours to control and Martin will follow. I know there are risks, but just think of the rewards."

Lateesha stared down at Danny's limp form for several long seconds. Then she swung her gaze over to Martin. He met her look with all of the defiance he could muster. That defiance took a beating beneath the sudden pressure in his skull. The pain grew to blinding proportions. Martin barely noticed when flashes of memory appeared, most involving fights with his father over entering the FBI.

_'With our help you would never have to put up with his manipulations again,' _Lateesha whispered in his mind.

Martin struggled to grasp what was happening. How could she violate his mind so easily? Sift through his memories like fingers through a filing cabinet? "You mean trade his manipulations for yours? No thanks. I'll stick with Dad. Now, get out of my mind!" When Lateesha withdrew from his thoughts some of the pressure eased, but his head still throbbed. It was a little disconcerting to see that she done what she had from halfway across the room. It was one thing to avoid the reach of someone's arm, but how did you avoid the reach of their mind?

Lateesha turned back to Elizabeth. "You may continue with Daniel, but he will be bled heavily, and when it comes time to transform Martin, I will take a more active role."

Elizabeth responded by kissing her on the cheek and hugging her with a, "Thank you." The actions reminded Martin of a child thanking a parent for an especially pleasant gift. Then Elizabeth was picking up Danny's form and depositing it back on the bed.

Martin winced when he saw Lateesha using her dagger to cut Danny's still healing wrists. Both women began drinking the blood that seeped from Danny's wounds, sucking on them to encourage a faster flow. Danny started to rouse after a few minutes, but with Petru joining to pin his legs and the women holding his arms, his struggles were fruitless. What tore at Martin the most was hearing Danny call out to him in pain and not being able to help. He responded by trying to encourage Danny, telling him, "Hold on, we'll find a way out of this." Hallow words that only seemed to amuse their abductors. Within five minutes Danny had stopped calling out, stopped struggling. Petru replaced Lateesha cutting a new wound in Danny's side to feast upon, and they continued to drain Danny steadily for another ten minutes. Finally they'd lifted their heads, licked their lips and departed the chamber in silence.

Martin pulled again on his confined wrist trying to force his hand through the metal ring, but it still wouldn't give no matter how much he grunted, groaned or cursed in frustration.

"You're wasting your time."

"Shut up, Harold," ordered Martin.

"Hey don't get pissed at me. I didn't put us in this position. In fact, you may recall I got stuck here trying to help you," Harold pointed out.

"Too little, too late," decided Martin as he adjusted his position to try and use his leg as leverage against the wall. If Harold had really wanted to help he could have warned them about what they were up against days ago.

"Oh right," murmured Harold. "And just what exactly was I supposed to do? Tell you during that interview at your headquarters that Elizabeth Hastate Bathory wasn't just some crazy cult leader, but really a modern day vampire with the ability to toss a man thirty feet through the air and squash a person's mind like a grape?" Martin didn't reply. "All you're doing right now is making yourself weaker."

"Would it be better for me to give up like you?" taunted Martin. "Maybe Elizabeth was right about you being weak, because where I come from you don't stop fighting just because things look bad."

Harold sputtered. "By tiring yourself out you're just making it that much easier for Elizabeth to break you later."

"Don't you mean Lateesha," queried Martin. "You heard their conversation about whether to let Danny live. Lateesha was clearly in charge."

Harold considered Martin's words. "Well, hell. Maybe she's the one that transformed Elizabeth." Martin shot Harold a questioning look. "See, Elizabeth was only transformed about seventeen years ago, but even then she was a powerhouse, which isn't how it usually works. It takes most Kin half a dozen years to fully develop the abilities they get. If Lateesha transformed Elizabeth against her will that would explain a lot about both her mental state and her submission to Lateesha."

"You're losing me again," warned Martin. Who knew there was so much involved in vampire, no make that Kin, social connections.

"Okay, it works like this. Say you've got a friend and your friend has been diagnosed with cancer or some other life threatening condition. You know he's Chosen, and you want to transform him so his life won't be cut short. Protocol states that at least three Kin agree that said person is mentally fit, and the introduction of the virus should be done slowly to ease the shock to the body. Transforming someone against their will is strictly forbidden, mostly because of the disasters it so often creates. About half of those turned against their will end up with broken minds. They're unstable, obsessive and require constant surveillance from their sires to be kept under control." Martin had to agree that sounded a lot like the relationship between Lateesha and Elizabeth. "The other half usually keep fighting their sire until they eventually kill them and then turn their rage on anyone else unfortunate enough to stumble into their way. Both types are Reckonings waiting to happen."

"Reckonings?" asked Martin as he went back to twisting at his manacle. Though he'd distrusted Harold during the interview he now felt that Harold was being honest with him. He also knew that Harold's knowledge of Kin could be the difference between life and death.

"I guess you could call Reckonings the Kin version of a jury trial," explained Harold.

"Calling Elizabeth a cannibal. Does that mean that most Kin don't drink human blood?" Martin continued to question.

"We're about as likely to drink human as the average person is to start eating another person's flesh." Harold grimaced in distaste and continued. "Most days I don't even bother with blood. A 6 oz. rare cooked steak is more than sufficient to meet my needs. A Kin that has been injured in an accident or exposed to a nasty bug might drink a pint of blood to boost their system, but pork, chicken and cattle are usually the preferred flavors."

"You told Elizabeth that the New York Kin would never accept her. Does that mean they would be willing to help us, if we can get out of here?" Martin knew that going to Jack would likely put more of the team in danger. If there was another option he wanted to take it.

"That depends on what you mean by help. I can think of a few that would be willing to give us shelter, and I know a former Buddhist monk that might be able to repair any damage Elizabeth has done to your friend's psyche," said Harold. "I don't expect anyone to challenge her openly, though. Especially after what has happened to me." Harold shook at his own chains. "She's too powerful. With Lateesha backing her I'm not sure even James Gamble could stop her, assuming he did make it back into town in time to help."

"First things, first," muttered Martin. He braced himself against the wall, took a couple deep breaths and yanked with all his might. The pain increased until finally something gave. Martin landed hard on his back, his right hand bloody and aching.

"Hot damn! You actually got free," whooped Harold.

Martin slowly rose, holding his swelling hand. "I think I dislocated my thumb."

"Hey, you're not going to hold those things I said earlier about wasting time against me right?" asked Harold nervously, jingling his chains. "You're going to let me out of these, aren't you?"

Martin grabbed the key off of the rack and pointed it at Harold. "You're going to help me get Danny out of here, and hide us somewhere Elizabeth can't find us."

"Agreed! I'm going to need to hide from her too you know. She's one crazy, vengeful bitch," Harold bemoaned. Martin decided to take Harold at his word and let him loose. "I can check the door while you see to your friend." Martin was already half way to the bed.

Danny looked impossibly pale on the red satin sheets of the bed. With his shirt discarded on the floor, Martin had a clear view of the wounds on his arms and side. The wounds seemed to have stopped bleeding which brought a little relief. "Danny, it's Martin. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner, but I'm here now and I'm going to get you out of this." Martin's injured hand carefully grasped Danny's limp one. His other hand checked Danny's temperature and pulse. "I just need you to hold on a little longer, partner." Though there was no outward sign, Martin was sure that Danny could hear him on some level.

"Well, do you want the good news, or the bad?" asked Harold.

"Good," replied Martin. He wasn't sure how much more bad news he could take at the moment.

"I found something to top off your partner's tank with." Harold held up a container that he uncorked and sniffed. "Smells like street junkie," he admitted with a grimace. Then he held the flask out to Martin.

"I thought you didn't drink human blood," said Martin refusing to accept the container.

"Beggars can't be choosers. Nothing else in that kitchenette is going to help him, I checked. Besides, it's this or wait for Elizabeth to come back and finish her games," reminded Harold.

Martin reluctantly accepted the blood; trying not to think about what had likely happened to the person it came from. Martin shifted so he was behind Danny and could support his head. "Danny I need you to drink something. I know it's not something you want to be drinking but it will make you stronger and we need that right now." Martin set the opening against Danny's lips tipping it slowly, letting it trickle into his mouth. The relief that greeted Danny's first swallow was tempered by fear that he was making the wrong choice. The fear eased as he felt Danny grow stronger. "That's right Danny, drink it all and then we can blow this joint." Looking back at Harold, Martin remembered, "You said there was also bad news?"

"Our doorway out of here is locked and bolted from the outside," Harold reported. "You may have noticed that super strength isn't one of the attributes I can claim on my Kin membership card."

Martin did his best to examine the door from where he was. "It's a metal door?"

"Yeah, the door and frame are both metal and the surrounding wall is all concrete," detailed Harold. "It won't be easy to break through. I was hoping Danny might be able to do a repeat of his earlier attack on Elizabeth. I don't see either of us being able to put a dent in it."

Danny swallowed the last of the blood from the container and then settled into a relaxed sleep. Martin knew that Danny's body was recovering from the shock it had suffered. While he was certain that Danny was out of the woods as far as survival went, he was nowhere near strong enough to take on that metal door.

Harold seemed to be reaching the same conclusion. "Crap. I was afraid that pint of blood wouldn't be enough to recharge him. They must have drained him down to only a couple liters." Harold grabbed Lateesha abandoned dagger off of the bedside table. "Desperate times call for desperate measure," he offered as he cut into his forearm.

"What are you doing?" demanded Martin.

"Blood is good for healing a Kin, but Kin blood is better," Harold explained. "I give him about a liter, and that should be enough to get him up to fighting strength. I hope."

The words sounded reasonable, but Martin's gut was telling him this was wrong. It wasn't going to work. When Harold moved his bleeding arm towards Danny the reaction was surprisingly violent. As soon as he breathed in the scent of Harold's blood, he began to buck and twist to get away. Martin could barely maintain his grip. "Danny, stop fighting we're not trying to hurt you." The words seemed to settle his partner, but as soon as Harold stepped closer, Danny started to struggle again. "Enough!" Martin shouted at Harold. "This isn't going to work. He knows your blood is infected just like Elizabeth's and he isn't going to drink it again."

"You can't know what he's thinking," said Harold.

"I can't, but I do," Martin replied.

"Well then we're screwed, because he's the only one here that can get us out, and that's not going to happen as weak as he is." Harold dropped the blade on the bed and tore off some cloth for a makeshift bandage.

Acting on impulse Martin picked up the dagger and cut through the skin of his wrist. Harold looked aghast. "Relax Harold. This isn't the first time I've donated blood."

"This is not a good idea," warned Harold. "You're not a Kin, at least not yet. He'll need to take a lot more blood from you. We're talking potentially dangerous amounts."

"I'm tougher than I look," replied Martin as he set his bloody arm on Danny's lips. As Danny began to take in Martin's blood, Martin felt a rightness that told him this was going to work.

_'Martin?'_

_'Right here, Danny. Just take what you need.'_

_'What's wrong?'_

_'Nothing that can't be fixed. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm depending on you to get us out of here.'_

"Okay, Martin. It's time to stop. You can't afford to lose any more blood," warned Harold. He could tell there was more going on than he could see. There was a swirl of energy surrounding Danny and Martin. But he feared they were running out of time. The better part of an hour had passed since the Kin cult had left and he doubted Elizabeth and Lateesha would leave them alone for much longer.

"It's not enough," argued Martin. "He needs more."

_'Martin? What do you need me to do?'_

_'We need you to pull a big bad wolf on the metal door to our room. Send it flying, just like you did with Elizabeth. Then we can get out of here.'_

_'But I don't even know how I did that.'_

_'Just think about how pissed you are at Elizabeth. I don't think it will take much more than that.'_

"Enough is enough, Martin. Wake Danny up now," insisted Harold. He was certain there was some form of communication going on between the two. But he was also worried. If Martin's pulse was anything to go by, he was bordering on shock.

_'I need you to wake up now, Danny.'_

_'Sure, you know I'm always up for saving the day.'_

Martin relaxed. Danny had things under control and Martin trusted him to get them out of here. Martin had done what he could to stack the odds in their favor, now it was up to Danny; and with that thought Martin allowed all conscious thought to slip away.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I'd love to see your feedback. Don't forget to tell me where Buck is from.


	4. Knowledge and power

**Author's note:** For those that guessed that Elizabeth's cult member Buckingham was really Buck Wilmington of the Magnificent Seven: Good Job! Sadly while the others are referenced they will not be arriving in time to make an appearance in this story. Hopefully I can squeze them in for next Halloween.

* * *

><p>Danny wasn't sure how long he'd been floating in the darkness. He just knew it was safer then the place he'd been trapped in before; that haunted his nightmares; where others held him down so he couldn't fight, where pain ruled every thought and enemies whispered through his mind. The worst part was that somehow he knew Martin was trapped there, too. He remembered calling out to Martin, hoping he was wrong. Martin's reply had been both a blessing and a curse. Yet he'd latched on to it with what little strength he had left. He could feel Martin in a way he'd never conceived before; feel Martin's frustration and desperation. He knew that somehow the same ones that were hurting him were keeping Martin from helping him. A corner of Danny's mind was relieved, pleased even that his suffering meant that Martin was spared, but he could also feel how watching Danny's struggle was tearing Martin apart. So as his strength ebbed and the whispers grew, Danny took the last shreds of his soul and wrapped them protectively around the feel of Martin, tucking them safely into one of the corners of his mind, which the whispers had yet to invade. Then he fell into the darkness where he somehow knew the others couldn't reach him.<p>

Eventually something changed. Martin was there; but not just in a distant, barely understood way. Martin surrounded him, his touch and smell sheltering him. Danny followed the lifeline of Martin's voice out of the darkness. The whispers were gone and the pain receded. He didn't understand everything that was happening, but he could feel Martin giving him strength somehow. Martin needed him to do something, needed his help to get them out of this hell. Danny tried to respond with confidence feeling how much his partner was relying on him.

Opening his eyes wasn't as difficult as he expected it to be. But Danny immediately went on guard when he realized the person leaning over him wasn't Martin. Then he noticed the taste in his mouth: blood. Feeling the warm skin against his lips, Danny gingerly lifted a limp arm away from his mouth. Following the limb back to its body was like being slammed into a wall of self-revulsion. "Oh God, Martin. What have I done to you? What have I done?" Martin's pale form didn't respond.

"Hey, we don't have time for you to start feeling guilty."

Danny jerked away from the touch on his shoulder, turning with his fist ready to take a swing.

The man, Harold Pembroke, Danny remembered, jumped back with his hands raised to placate, "I'm trying to help. You didn't do anything wrong, this was Martin's choice."

"Right," sneered Danny turning away, "Martin chose to have me suck him dry." This couldn't be happening! What kind of monster had Elizabeth turned him into?

"Martin chose to take a calculated risk; that he could give you enough juice to get us the hell out of here," explained Harold desperately. "I could feel the communication going on between the two of you. Surely you would have noticed if he'd been struggling or fighting you."

Danny didn't want to hear what Harold was saying, but looking at his partner's still form he could remember Martin's voice. _'Right here, Danny. Just take what you need . . . I'm depending on you to get us out . . . the metal door . . . send it flying.'_

"You stupid idiot," grumbled Danny harshly, even as he cradled Martin in his arms. He took a moment to check Martin's vitals and then lifted him off the bed. Danny carried Martin across the room with Harold following nervously behind. He set Martin on the floor a few feet away from the door, leaning him carefully against the wall. "I'm going to get you out of this," Danny promised kissing the top of Martin's head.

Staring at the heavy metal door, Danny wondered how Martin could have possibly expected him to break through it.

_'Just think about how pissed you are at Elizabeth. I don't think it will take much more than that.'_

_Right, Martin. Pissed at Elizabeth, I can do._ Danny backed up a couple steps, digging deep into reserves he barely knew he had. He remembered every cut of pain, every shiver of fear, every violation of mind and focused all of the rage they'd produced. Then he charged the door, throwing up a well-placed kick to deliver the blow. With a horrendous screech bits of metal bent and broke. The hunk of steel that had been the door rebounded off the walls as it traveled a dozen feet down the hall.

"Crap! That's going to wake up the neighbors." Harold was already bending down to pick Martin up, putting him in a fireman's carry. "I hope you can still walk, because we've got to get out of here, now!"

Danny nodded weakly. He felt exhausted and a little wobbly, but he'd gotten the job done and now he was ready to leave. It took all of his concentration to follow Harold's path down the hall. He wasn't entirely pleased that Harold was the one carrying Martin, but he couldn't deny the fact that he could barely walk three steps without using the wall to support him. When Harold turned up a flight of stairs, Danny groaned but continued to forge ahead. Another hallway; two rights and a left, and then another right. God, he hoped Harold really did know the way out of here.

Harold pulled up suddenly, tipping his head to the side as though listening for something. Danny could hear the low thumping base of a muted song, but nothing that would indicate danger. After a moment Harold shook his head, deciding that he must have been imagining things. Starting forward again, he turned another corner, and then flew backwards, crashing into the far wall. Martin's limp body fell a few feet away.

Petru's hulking form came into view. "Did you think you could just walk out of here and no one would notice?" His accent was thick with anger. "Elizabeth decides how the games are played. She decides when they are done, not you." Petru stalked closer to Harold who tried to scuttle backwards out of reach. The pain of impact seemed to have roused Martin, but he could do little more than watch Petru warily from the floor as he gasped for breath.

Danny didn't wait for Petru to follow up his first attack. He launched himself at Petru, knocking both of them to the ground. More by luck then skill Danny landed on top. He took advantage of the position, punching Petru in the head and face as hard as he could. Petru blocked his fourth punch and got a knee between them to knock Danny off.

Both men scrambled to their feet and began circling each other. Petru wiped away the blood leaking from his nose and mouth. "Elizabeth may have let you get away with that, because you're her new favorite toy, but I'm not going to be so forgiving."

Danny stopped circling when he knew he had Martin and Harold at his back. So focused was he on Petru that he almost didn't notice the other form coming down the stairs behind his opponent. Danny's guts clenched when he recognized Elizabeth's missing cult member Buckingham stop just a step behind Petru. Even though he was outnumbered, he didn't back down. Martin was counting on him. He couldn't give up.

"What's this?" asked Buckingham. "I'm gone for a few hours and suddenly you're letting the rabble run loose." He tone seemed to imply that incompetence, Petru's incompetence, was at fault.

Petru stiffened, but held his tongue, too intimidated to pick a fight with the tall dark haired man. "I thought you'd still be with that bit of skirt you carried off, earlier."

Buckingham tilted his head and smiled smugly. "Oh, she's resting right now."

"You let her live?" questioned Petru.

"Unlike the rest of you gluttons, I like to leave room for dessert, maybe even a midnight snack." Buckingham's grin implied all manner of lascivious acts.

"Fine," grumbled Petru. "Why don't you get back to your dessert and let me finish my business." All the while Danny waited patiently, knowing he had to be ready when one or both of his opponents made their moves. "I think, maybe we didn't bleed you enough the last time," Petru decided, unsheathing the blade at his hip and pointing it at Danny.

Petru stabbed forward with his knife, but Danny jumped to the side, knocking the blade arm away from his body and then slugging Petru hard in the jaw. He wasn't surprised when Buckingham stepped into the fight, since he'd expected the two to try to gang up on him. But he was amazed when the man wrenched the knife from Petru's hand, sending it clattering to the floor. Then Buckingham pulled Petru into a strangle hold from behind and with a sudden jerk, snapped his neck. Petru's body fell into a heap.

"That's a better death than you deserve," Buckingham declared, spitting on the corpse.

Danny didn't bother trying to understand what was going on. He scrambled for Petru's discarded knife and warily faced his remaining opponent.

"Whoa, easy now," Buckingham stepped back and raised his hands as non-threateningly as possible. "I'm on your side, remember? I helped you get away from Elizabeth the first time." Danny stared at the man, but the only memories that came to him were of Buckingham groping an unconscious Elena and then carrying her away. "Okay, so maybe you don't remember," Buck conceded. Then he did something he hadn't done in months. He dropped every pretense that allowed him to hide his true thoughts and feelings from the members of Elizabeth's cult. He was still the same man standing before them, but now the smug distain and voracious desire were gone. In its place were compassion and an offer of friendship. "My name is Buck Wilmington and I've been working undercover to gather evidence against Elizabeth."

"What did you do to Elena?" demanded Danny, not yet willing to trust what his instincts were telling him.

"I checked her into a hospital under an assumed name," Buck answered honestly. "I also contacted your boss, so by now she's well protected." Danny relaxed his guard just a bit. "How about we compromise? You agree not to stick me with that and I help your friend." Buck motioned to Martin.

"Help how?" asked Danny stepping closer to his friend. Martin was aware and listening, but Danny could feel how hard Martin was struggling to stay that way.

Buck slipped a hand beneath his coat slowly pulling out a canteen. "In here is a high powered mix of red blood cells and plasma. I've got a good doctor friend that says this is the best thing for a wounded Kin."

Harold spoke up, "That won't work on Martin. Elizabeth never got around to transforming him."

"Well, it's true that it usually takes a pretty large dose of the virus combined with an infusion of blood to trigger the transformation, but sometimes, very rarely it can be trigger by a mental bond with another Kin." Buck looked at Danny. "I'm guessing you're feeling a pretty strong connection to Martin right now."

Danny swallowed back the bile rising in his throat. "You're saying that I did the same thing to Martin that Elizabeth did to me."

"Hell no!" argued Buck. "What Elizabeth tried to forge couldn't hold a candle to what you and Martin got. Elizabeth was trying to break you. The type of bond you and Martin have strengthens each other, builds each other up." When that didn't get through to Danny, Buck pointed out, "If the two of you weren't connected, one of two things would have happened by now: you would be insane, or Martin would be dead."

Danny felt a tap on his leg. Martin didn't need to move his lips to get his message across. _'Quit being stupid, Danny. What's done is done.'_

Danny shook himself from his guilt. There'd be time to worry about the consequences of his actions later. Right now he needed to focus on getting Martin to safety. "Give me that." Danny reached for Buck's flask. He uncapped the container and helped Martin drink it. Danny was a concerned that Martin might have a painful reaction as he had earlier.

Martin felt nothing worse than a bit of warmth spreading through his system. When most of the canteen was finished he stopped drinking and offered it to Danny. "You should take the last couple of swallows," Martin instructed.

"You need it more than I do," Danny countered.

"I've had enough. Besides, taking down the door drained you," Martin argued.

"Martin's right," agreed Buck. "We're going to need you in top form to get past Elizabeth and Lateesha."

Martin sent Danny a _'See, I told you,'_ and pushed the container into Danny's hand.

Danny relented. The last couple of ounces of blood went down quickly, but he pretended not to notice how quickly just a few swallows energized his system. He handed the empty canteen back to Buck and gave Martin a hand up. Martin wobbled a bit, still weak and dizzy, but at least able to move under his own power. Danny steadied Martin, for the first time actually paying attention to the current flowing between them. It suddenly occurred to Danny that he could make Martin stronger just by willing him some of his energy, and so he did.

Martin's eyes snapped to his. For a few long seconds Martin soaked up the energy, then the flow started to ebb, but not by Danny's choice. _'That's enough Danny.'_ "I'm okay."

"You could be better," countered Danny.

"I could also be dead," reminded Martin.

Buck watched give and take between the two men. This wasn't the first time he'd witnessed a mental bond between Kin. It would require time for the two of them to understand all of the changes that would come. Buck wished he could give them more time to explore what was happening to them, but the cult was still a threat.

Before he could broach the subject, Martin spoke again. "I think it's past time we got out of here."

"I'll second that," agreed Harold eagerly. He brushed dirt off his rump and edged towards the short hallway with a door at its end.

Buck blocked his path. "Before we go any further everyone needs to know what they're about to walk into. There are about thirty people having a party on the main floor. Most of them are normal folk. Well, as normal as you can get when you spend all of your time obsessing about vampires and drinking people's blood. They're Elizabeth's followers and they all but worship her. With Petru dead we only need to worry about three other Kin."

"He's going to stay that way, right." Martin needed to know how much the Kin differed from the vampires of legends.

"Yeah. Kin may have a leg up over the ordinary person when it comes to healing, but once they're really dead they're no more likely to come back," explained Buck. "Anyway, we need to keep an eye out for Elizabeth, Lateesha who's even more dangerous in her own way, and Juliet, a chosen that Elizabeth drove insane when she transformed."

"If you're talking about the petite blonde that likes to growl at people. She was ordered by Elizabeth to take Ryan to the Hospital." Danny turned to Harold. "They left maybe fifteen minutes before you arrived, but I've lost track of how much time has passed since then."

"Almost an hour," replied Harold after a quick glance at his watch.

"Another words, Juliet could be back at any time," said Buck. "Okay, here's the plan. We're going to try to bluff our way through most of the people. We'll keep our mental shields up, so hopefully Elizabeth and Lateesha won't notice us leaving out the back door."

"I'm not sure what you mean by mental shield," admitted Danny.

"That thing that Martin did when he blocked you from feeding him any more energy, that was a shield. Just do what he did and you'll be fine," explained Buck.

"What if we run into Elizabeth or Lateesha up there?" asked Martin.

"Then run," declared Buck emphatically, "and for God's sake, whatever happens do not drop your shields. Once they realized how far into the transformation you two are they aren't going to be subtle about trying to break you." Once he received solemn nods from everyone Buck led the way to the door.

As soon as Buck opened the doors the music was heard loud and clear. It was a powerful rhythm falling somewhere between Metal and Alternative. The room was dimly lit. Perhaps a dozen bodies danced in the middle of the floor. Others hung in groups at the fringes of the room, drinking, smoking, making out and more. Buck led his group to the left where there were fewer people. Danny notice how his demeanor had changed. Once again his entire manor spoke of arrogance, his body language that of a predator on the prowl. It reminded Danny of why he'd become so furious about the way Buck had handled Elena. Buck seemed to be able to switch between his two personas a little too easy for Danny's comfort. But that didn't stop Danny from doing his best to mimic Buck. Most of the partygoers were keeping a respectful distance from the man, and Danny wanted them to do the same with him and Martin both.

"Buckingham, where have you been?" asked one black haired woman, stepping forward while others backed away. "I'd heard you found someone to replace me." She gave him a sexy pout, even as she snaked her arms around his hips and her hands caressed his rear.

"Now Darla, you know no one could replace you. I just indulged in a little fancy while I was out," assured Buck. "Besides I'm not with her now am I?"

"Well maybe I'll forgive you if you introduce me to your new friends." Darla's eyes trailed appreciatively over Martin and Danny both. Harold, standing on the other side of Buck, was ignored.

"Now Darla, you know better than that. Elizabeth always gets first taste of all the newcomers," said Buck in a tone that was more seductive than scolding. "Speaking of which, would you happen to know where Elizabeth and Lateesha are right now?"

"They went up to Lateesha quarters a while back," said Darla. "Rumor has it that Elizabeth's working on another disciple." Disciple was how most of the cult referred to Elizabeth's inner circle comprised of Lateesha, Buckingham, Petru, Juliet and Carl, Juliet's un-chosen boyfriend.

"What about Carl and Juliet?" Buck was hoping that neither would walk in any time soon.

"Juliet left about an hour ago with Elizabeth's old toy. I guess she finally got tired of him," speculated Darla. "I haven't seen Carl since yesterday."

"Thanks Darla, I'll have to catch up with you later," Buck took her into a quick embrace, sealing their lips for a second before moving away. Danny, Martin and Harold followed. They passed another cluster of people on a group of couches. Those that weren't crawling over each other to have sex were sharing needles and popping pills. It struck Danny that here he'd spent several days trying to recover the memories he'd lost regarding the first night he'd been taken; wishing he knew what had been done to him and exactly how he'd escaped, but these people were doing their best to dive right into the very pit of nothingness that Danny had struggling so hard to get out of. He could understand the desire to cut loose or numb the ache, he was a recovering alcoholic after all, but these people were voluntarily surrendering their memories. He couldn't help but wonder what dark corners of their past made oblivion seem like such an attractive option.

Once they had some distance from Darla, Martin asked, "Did you know Carl well?"

"He traded his girlfriend's sanity for a quick roll in the covers with Elizabeth," detailed Buck with disgust. "I make it a point not to get to know people like that. Why?"

"It's likely that Carl may be dead by now. I shot him twice when I walked in on the ambush, and we haven't seen him since," explained Martin.

"Good." As far as Buck was concerned, the less support Elizabeth had the better. Carl certainly wasn't any loss to humanity. Buck remembered vividly how Carl had bragged about earning a night of passion with Elizabeth by giving her his girlfriend. He'd even chained her to the wall for Elizabeth. "With any luck he suffered for a long time."

Juliet's transformation had happened several months before Buck had entered the inner circle of the cult, but he did remember meeting the girl once when she was still only Chosen. He had no doubt that it was Elizabeth's method of torturously painful transformation that had turned the insecure teenage girl into the feral creature she was now. Seeing Elizabeth's handy work on a daily basis was part of what fueled Buck's determination to ensure she couldn't do the same to Danny or Martin.

The group finally left the party room for another hallway. With the door closed behind them it was much quieter. Buck glanced warily towards another set of rising stairs and then turned the other way. "There's a kitchen over here with a back door," said Buck quietly.

They were about six feet from the door when it opened inward to reveal a familiar petite blonde. Juliet was back. Stepping through the door, it wasn't until her eyes drifted past Buck to Danny, Martin and Harold that they widened and her mouth opened. Buck was already stepping forward, throwing all of his weight behind a punch leveled right to her jaw. Her head snapped back painfully, and she stumbled into the door, but she didn't go down. Buck grabbed both of her arms and swung her back into the kitchen. Then he punched her again two more times. It was finally enough to knock her unconscious. Tugging his belt from his waist, Buck started securing the young girl's arms behind her back.

"Wouldn't it have been easier to just kill her, like Petru?" asked Harold nervously. The fact that they were just a dozen feet from the door didn't ease Harold's fear; it made it worse. They needed to get out of Elizabeth's stronghold now, and he couldn't see any reason as an acceptable delay.

"I'm not going to kill someone for something that isn't their fault. Petru knew what he was getting into and he thrilled in the killing. Little Juliet here was just a victim driven insane by Elizabeth. I don't know if there's anyone that can save what's left of her mind, but I'm not going to be the one to decide that she's a lost cause," explained Buck. "You don't have to wait on me." He pointed across the kitchen. "That door there is to the mudroom which leads outside. Feel free to run at any time."

"Right," Harold took Buck at his word and headed for the exit.

Martin grabbed a towel to use as a gag, while Danny tied an apron, strings and all, around Juliet's legs. "Thanks guys," said Buck tying one last knot in the belt.

"Do you think anyone else heard Juliet calling for help?" asked Martin.

Buck's eyes snapped to Martin. Danny stood with confusion on his face. "What call? Buck never gave Juliet the time to get a word out."

Buck didn't bother asking questions. Pulling Martin to his feet he insisted in a harsh whisper, "Let's move now!"

Martin was just as confused with Danny's words, "But I heard . . ."

"Heard her calling for me, perhaps," wondered Elizabeth. Standing in the doorway they'd just come through, the fiery redhead looked nothing less than furious. Turning at the noise behind them, they saw Lateesha standing in front of the mudroom door. "You will not be going anywhere until I have what I want from you," Elizabeth declared, "by whatever means necessary."

* * *

><p>Samantha kept a close watch on the estate, while Jack coordinated with the local police. Vivian was still at Downtown Hospital, where she been ever since they'd confirmed that the patient checked in as Inez Recillos was in fact Elena. At last report Elena was awake, though still confused and suffering the effects of a concussion. According to Viv, all she could remember after a knock on the door was seeing a strange group of men and women waiting in the hall, then the door crashing in on her and finally nothing.<p>

Vivian had also relayed that Elena wanted to continue trying to help the team, despite the fact that she was apparently seeing double. Vivian, after noticing that Elena seemed to be having trouble focusing, had held up three fingers and asked Elena to tell her how many she saw. Elena's reply of, "Cuando te crecio el sexto dedo," had been laughingly translated by a nurse into, "When did you grow six fingers?" That had succinctly closed the door on any more talk about Elena trying to work for now.

Jack had been clearly hopeful when he'd arrived at St. Vincent's to learn that an on-the-ball orderly had memorized the plates of the vehicle that had dumped the barely alive Ryan Saluke just outside the Emergency Room doors. Even better was the almost immediate response to the ABP by a patrol officer who recognized the plate number on a speeding BMW. Instead of trying to pull the vehicle over the officer had tailed the car, eventually surrendering its position to an unmarked vehicle, which had followed the BMW back here.

The local Sergeant who'd arrived to coordinate with the FBI was of the opinion that they were making a huge mistake. There were dozens of cars in the drive and lining the street. Almost every window in the manor was lit and music could be heard from the party inside. The Sergeant had firmly insisted, three minutes already, that Jack was crazy to think that some billionaire, no matter how eccentric, was going to host a party while torturing federal agents in the basement. Jack had responded with a scathing remark about the Sergeant's lack of investigative qualifications, and gone back to pressuring Legal to get the warrant for a raid.

Samantha now knew why this address wasn't on the list when they were investigating Elizabeth Bathory's holdings. Elizabeth had sold this place before she'd changed her name from Hastate to Bathory, more than fifteen years ago. She'd sold it to a man named William Blake for a mere tenth of its value. Within two months of the purchase Blake was dead from an apparent mugging, though his murder was never solved. Lateesha Abyad inherited all of Blake's possessions according to his will. That the connection between Elizabeth and Lateesha went so far back worried Samantha. Especially since mysterious deaths and disappearances seemed to trail them even then.

Samantha noticed movement on the right side of the house at the head of its long drive. Grabbing a scope to get a better view, she recognized one of the witnesses they'd questioned earlier: Harold Pembroke. The middle-aged man didn't fit with the crowd of twenty-something Goth enthusiasts that they'd seen coming and going from the house. He was hurrying down the drive looking over his shoulder every couple of steps. He started to slow about halfway down the drive, stopping behind a large SUV. It was a little harder for Sam to make out what he was doing it the shadow of the vehicle but it looked like he was calling someone. "Hey Jack, take a look at this."

* * *

><p>Harold was certain that the air had never smelled so fresh and free as it did when he stepped out of Elizabeth's little house of horrors. He wasn't going to kid himself; he simply wasn't cut out for this good versus evil, battle to the death sort of stuff. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate that there were times that people needed to take a stand, but when it came down to it, he was just a regular guy and Elizabeth and her ilk scared the hell out of him.<p>

It wasn't like he'd become Kin because he had any illusions about fulfilling some grand destiny. He'd just wanted to live to be thirty. He'd been a happily married tax accountant with his first child on the way when he'd been diagnosed with Small Celled Lung Cancer. With an only five percent survival rate he'd feared he wouldn't even live long enough to see his child be born. Then a cousin had come to him with an unbelievable miracle cure. At first he'd thought his cousin was crazy, but it was strange how impending death could leave you grasping at all sorts of crazy straws. No one had been more surprised than he when the cancer had vanished. Becoming Kin had given Harold twenty-six glorious years with his wife, Agatha, until she herself had died of breast cancer. Because she hadn't been chosen, she didn't have the right genetic makeup to trigger a transformation, and he had only been able to hold her hand at the end. Still, he couldn't regret the extra quarter of a century they'd had together. By simply making a few small changes to his diet, namely cooking his meat rare as opposed to medium well, he took in enough blood to ensure good health. He'd never really considered taking the larger doses of blood required to slow his aging until his daughter and son-in-law died in a car accident. Suddenly the sole guardian of two small children, Harold, by then a fifty-eight year old widower, had decided that adding a little vitality to his life was a necessity. Now that the grandchildren were happily off to college he'd gone back to simply eating rare meat, which kept him relatively healthy, but didn't slow the aging process. In all honesty, Harold figured he'd lived a good life and was looking forward to being with Agatha again. Other people might wonder about the existence of life after death, but with so many Kin developing the ability to communicate with souls of the departed there was no question for Harold what would be waiting on the other side. Not that Harold had that ability himself. The only 'special' ability Harold had developed with his transformation was the skill to handle even the trickiest calculations without a calculator. (A very handy thing during tax time.)

Harold's low profile amongst the Kin meant he was especially surprised when James Gamble, Regent of the New York Kin had asked him to keep an eye on New York while James served the equivalent of jury duty for the Gains Reckoning. Assured by James that little beyond paperwork would be required, Harold had accepted. Now here he was fleeing from insane, and insanely powerful kindred with an undercover agent and two Feds. Speaking of which, where the hell were they? It couldn't take this long to tie up one woman. Harold looked over his shoulder again. No that couldn't have been Lateesha he just saw walking through the doorway. Their luck couldn't be that bad, his paranoid mind had to be imagining things. Surely they would walk out the door any minute . . . come on guys, any minute now . . . crap! He couldn't go back in there. Elizabeth and Lateesha would squash him like a bug. But he couldn't leave the others behind either.

Ducking behind a SUV he pulled out his cell phone and started calling the few Kin in New York that might be willing to help. Harold was pleasantly surprised when each of the first three calls he made ended with an affirmative promise of immediate assistance. Who knew his organizational skill would lend itself to organizing an army? He was halfway through dialing the fourth number when someone grabbed his arm. "Aahh!" Harold screamed.

"Shush!" hushed Samantha. "What are you doing here?" Sam started pulling Harold way from the manor and towards a group of bushes that hid Jack and several other law enforcement officers.

"Oh, thank God it's you," gasped Harold. "I thought for sure it was Elizabeth. And I'm really not hero material, not like Martin, Danny and Buck. I'm a just tax accountant. 'Keep an eye on things for me,' James said. Next thing I know I'm being chained to a wall. Who chains an accountant to a wall, I ask you?"

"What is he blathering on about?" asked Jack. When Sam had pointed out the presence of one of their witnesses, Jack had seized the opportunity to learn if Elizabeth or better yet either of his missing agents was still inside.

"I'm not sure, I think I scared him," Samantha admitted. "Mr. Pembroke we need you to confirm for us if Elizabeth Bathory and any other members of her cult are inside."

"Oh they're all in there, and ready for the bloodletting to begin," informed Harold. Then he noticed how everyone was dressed. "You've got body armor, and really big guns. This might just work. Maybe if you take in some really big artillery like a bazooka. The FBI has bazookas, right?"

"You think we need a bazooka to arrest Elizabeth Bathory?" Jack was wondering about the man's state of mind.

"I think that where Elizabeth is concerned, there's no such thing as overkill!" Harold declared emphatically.

"What about Agent Fitzgerald?" asked Samantha, knowing that Harold would remember him from the headquarters interview.

"Martin's in there. So are Danny and Buck. We were escaping together, but they had to tie up this woman so she couldn't warn the rest of the cult. Buck told me to go ahead and I did, but they didn't come out behind me. And I thought I saw Lateesha, so I couldn't go back in, but I was calling for help." Harold held up his cell phone like a talisman.

Jack keyed his microphone. "We have confirmation that the suspects and Agents Taylor and Fitzgerald are on the premises. Take your positions, all units be ready to move in on my mark." Jack and Sam lead four officers towards the side door that Harold had exited.

* * *

><p>Buck was silently cursing the fact that Martin and Danny hadn't run with Harold. A few more seconds would have been all they needed to escape. Now both of their exits were cut off and Elizabeth looked ready to make them suffer for their defiance.<p>

Elizabeth stepped forward, kneeling down beside Juliet to remove her bindings. "It was you that allowed my Daniel to escape that first night, wasn't it Buckingham?"

"Yeah, that was me. I untied him and gave him his gun," admitted Buck. He'd been able to slip away from Elizabeth's inner circle while they'd entertained themselves with torturing Danny's friend Ryan. Though the drugs were still affecting Danny, he'd seemed to understand what Buck was telling him; that he had to get out before Elizabeth turned her focus back on him. Then Buck had been called by Elizabeth and had been forced to leave the agent to his own devices. It had never occurred to him that Danny would follow him back to the room where Ryan was being tortured. In retrospect he probably should have realized that Danny wasn't the sort to leave a friend behind.

_Buck was already back at Elizabeth's side, nibbling on her neck, whispering that perhaps it was time to take a break and indulge in sweeter pleasures. Usually it was Lateesha that reined in Elizabeth, but she'd left an hour before allowing Elizabeth to wallow in her most sadistic tendencies. Buck forced himself to ignore Ryan's cries of agony. He had already sent an SOS to the rest of the Seven. That they hadn't immediately responded indicated that something big was happening beyond New York. Buck knew he couldn't take down the whole cult on his own, so he bided his time gathering information and doing what little he could to help the cult's victims._

_The door to their chamber had slammed open. Agent Taylor, barefoot and wearing only a pair of jeans, stood in the doorway waving his gun. "Cut Ryan loose! Do it now or I swear I'll kill all of you," the agent ordered._

_Elizabeth laughed as only one assured of her own invincibility could. "Then I guess you'll just have to kill me," she declared approaching him with her arms open wide._

_Hanging almost completely limp from his bindings, Ryan managed to lift his head. "Danny, for God's sake run. Run and don't look back."_

_Danny shook his head. "Not without you," he insisted. Then he'd swung his aim back to Elizabeth. "That's close enough. I will shoot you."_

_"Of course you will," Elizabeth agreed. "It just won't do you any good. Are you going to save your friend, Hero? You can't even save yourself. Surrender and maybe I'll be gentle with you." Elizabeth took another step forward._

_Danny pulled the trigger, sending three bullets into Elizabeth while the others flew wide. One bullet hit Juliet, and another scorched Buck's arm while the rest thumped into walls. When Danny finally pulled the trigger on an empty chamber Elizabeth was the only one who hadn't ducked for cover._

_Elizabeth hissed as she straightened her body. Blood flowed from two chest wounds and a third in her gut. "Perhaps I won't be so gentle with you after all," she raged._

_Faced with an apparently indestructible foe, Danny took the only choice left to him. He ran. Mick, a weasel faced Kin that Elizabeth had recruited in Montreal was the first to recover, racing to the door to chase after Danny. Elizabeth suddenly grabbed the man, throwing him to the floor. "What are you doing," he demanded. "We can't let that Fed get away."_

_"We wouldn't be worrying about his escape if you had tied him properly like I instructed," hissed Elizabeth. "I don't tolerate failure, Mick. You need to atone for your sins, and you'll do so by healing my wounds." Mick's next sound was a gurgle as Elizabeth shoved his head to the side and sunk her teeth into his jugular, taking the blood she needed to heal from her flailing victim. Juliet rushed to Elizabeth's side, tearing another wound in the man's side._

_Buck knew that being wounded he would be expected to drink from Mick as well. A sickening thought, but one he dealt with. At least Danny had escaped. A whimper beside him, reminded Buck that one of Elizabeth's captives had not fared so well. As Ryan stared at Elizabeth and Juliet feast upon their former friend his mind seemed to be losing its grasp on reality. Buck surreptitiously touched the man. He'd never had much of a gift for altering others' minds, but Ryan's fragile condition allowed him to gently push the man into a safe slumber that would give him at least a few hours of peace from this nightmare._

_The door opened again to reveal Lateesha. "What has happened here? I heard shooting."_

_"The other prisoner," volunteered Petru with his heavy Romanian accent. "Somehow he broke free and got his gun back. He shot Elizabeth and Juliet, before fleeing."_

_Lateesha noticed Buck's bleeding arm. "You were hurt as well?"_

_"Just a scratch, Ma'am," said Buck. "I was going to let the girls have their fill first." He amplified the charm that so often worked on Elizabeth._

_Lateesha stared at him for a moment longer before turning back to Petru. "Take Carl and find our wayward pet. I'm sure my sister will want to play with him when she's done with Mick."_

_Petru and Carl immediately took off in pursuit. Buck just hoped Agent Taylor had enough of a head start to reach freedom._

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed as she realized she'd welcomed a traitor into her cult's midst. "You're the one I should have drained dry, not Mick. That's a mistake I'll have to remedy."

Buck sent a quick mental message to Martin, gambling that he'd inherited his 'grandfather's' ability for telepathy. _'Our only chance to get out of this is to kill them both quickly and brutally.'_ Buck knew the message had been received when Martin drew two long knives from a wooden block, passing one of them to Danny. Knowing that Martin and Danny were as ready as they could be, Buck tried one last bluff. "Before you kill me you might want to consider what you'll be bringing down upon yourself."

"Are you threatening me with another Reckoning? Really, Buckingham, I expected better from you," declared Elizabeth in a disappointed tone.

"I'm not talking about a Reckoning. I'm talking about a Blood Vendetta." Buck paused a minute to let the words sink in. Lateesha, at least, seemed to be paying attention. "If you kill me; if you harm Martin or Danny any further you will die, and you're whole cult will be destroyed. The Seven will see to that."

Elizabeth scoffed, "Only one of the Seven can declare a Blood Vendetta."

Buck rolled his shoulders in a deceptively relaxed manor and smiled knowingly.

Lateesha stepped away from the mudroom door to move closer to Elizabeth. "You would be Buck Wilmington, I presume." Buck smiled wider. "It might be prudent to let him go," Lateesha said to Elizabeth. "You'll still have Daniel and Martin to play with."

"Wrong!" countered Buck. "The Blood Vendetta will be called on their behalf, too."

"You can't," insisted Elizabeth. "Kin law forbids it."

Buck just about choked on Elizabeth's use of Kin law after she'd flouted it so many times. "Not when a blood relative or a mental bond is in effect, and in this case we've got both."

"What blood relative?" demanded Lateesha. She and Elizabeth always carefully researched their victims before they took them to play with.

"More than a hundred years ago Vin Tanner conceived a daughter with married woman. Martin is a direct descendant of that child. Martin has formed a mental bond with Danny. That means Danny is under the Seven's protection as well." Buck detailed. He could feel a flicker of surprise from Martin, and knew there would be questions to answer later. Right now he was more concerned with how Elizabeth was taking the news.

Elizabeth's face had taken on a look of wonder. "I was right! Destiny brought me the heir of one of the most powerful Kindred to ever live. 'Teesha, don't you see that they were meant to be ours?"

Buck had learned during his time undercover that while Lateesha could be a controlling influence on Elizabeth she was also just as likely to indulge Elizabeth's whims. Watching Lateesha now, he saw the precise second that she decided to go along with Elizabeth's delusions. Shouting a quick mental warning to Martin, Buck drew his gun shooting Elizabeth three times. Lateesha kicked the gun from Buck's hand with numbing force, before he could unload the entire the clip as he'd hoped. Three bullets wouldn't be enough to kill Elizabeth, not even close, but perhaps it would weaken her enough for Martin and Danny to stand against her. Then Buck couldn't spare any more thoughts for the fledglings, because his own survival was on the line.

Lateesha threw a fist at Buck that he agilely dodged, while drawing his own familiar blade. He'd been very careful during his time with the cult to make sure that they never saw too many of his abilities. He might not have the superior strength that Elizabeth and Lateesha or even his own friends Chris and Josiah possessed, but he was fast. He'd also known how to knife fight since well before he became Kin. During the past hundred years he'd refined that ability by going up against some of the most dangerous opponents the Kindred had to offer.

Their fight quickly became a battle of attrition. With quick darting jabs he'd wounded her several times, every flow of blood helpful in weakening her, but she'd also caught him once with a kick to his left leg, causing a sharp ache that experience taught him was likely a hairline fracture. Their attacks and retreats had taken them back out into the hallway. They had even gathered a bit of a crowd as the more ordinary members of the cult left the party to watch the fight, cheering it on like an obscene sporting event. Buck was fully aware that Lateesha could potentially kill him with a single well-placed blow. Lateesha was adjusting her fighting style to compensate for Buck's speed, and he couldn't afford for that to happen. Feinting to the left, Buck dove for Lateesha. She tried to counter with a crushing grip on his left wrist, but Buck had already chosen to sacrifice that limb to give him an opening for a killing blow. His knife plunged deep into her neck. Shock flowed from Lateesha as her eyes began to dim.

Buck didn't have time to acknowledge his victory. The sounds of struggle continued in the kitchen. He scrambled to his feet, opened the door just in time to see Martin be thrown backwards into a wall only to drop in an unconscious heap.

Danny was locked in combat with Elizabeth, her hand on his arm barely preventing him from stabbing her with his knife. Buck moved forward still trying to decide how best to help, when Danny adjusted his grip and hooked a leg behind hers knocking her off balance. Danny let his body follow hers to the ground, using the momentum to drive his knife into her heart. Knowing the blade had hit its target; Danny twisted the weapon destroying as much heart muscle and tissue as possible.

"My destiny," gasped Elizabeth blood bubbling up from her lips.

"It's over," declared Danny, not easing his grip until her heart stopped beating.

Buck turned towards Martin to see what kind of condition he was in. Halfway across the kitchen he was stopped by the entrance of two FBI agents and four uniformed officers. "FBI, freeze, don't move!" Ordered Jack in the lead.

"It's okay, Jack," called Danny. "Buck's the reason we made it this far." Jack lowered his weapon and moved to Danny to help him up. One of the officers knelt next to Elizabeth's body to check her vitals. "She's dead," Danny announce with little emotion. The officer nodded and moved to secure the hall door with his partner.

"Danny," called Buck. "Martin needs you over here."

Next to him Samantha was insisting, "He's not breathing. We need to start CPR."

"Just hold up a second," countered Buck, "with the broken ribs he's got, that could do more harm than good." Danny slid down next to Martin. "Just like before," Buck instructed. "He only needs a little help."

Danny nodded; setting one hand on Martin's chest while the other cupped his face. "Okay Martin, you're starting to scare everyone. It's time to start breathing again." For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but Danny could feel Martin soaking up the energy. Then Martin sucked in a big gulp of air.

"Shallow breaths," advised Buck. "You cracked some ribs." Martin blinked a couple of times before focusing on Buck and nodding his understanding. Then he locked eyes with Danny, his good had closing over the one Danny had placed on his chest.

"I'm not even going to ask how you did that," murmured Jack. He wasn't the sort to buy into miracles, but he wasn't going to argue this one. All of his agents were alive and for the moment that was enough.

"Elizabeth?" gasped Martin weakly.

"She dead," insisted Danny. "She'll never hurt anybody again."

"And I left Lateesha bleeding out on the hall floor," added Buck. He started to lever himself up, knowing that he needed to make sure that no one tried to do something stupid, like save Lateesha's life. His left leg was still killing him, but he figured he could hobble if he needed to.

"Juliet?" Martin wondered.

Buck and Danny exchanged a look. They'd both forgotten about her during the fight with the more powerful Kindred. Seeing the abandoned bindings that had been holding her, Buck started hobbling as quickly as he could towards the hall door. "Stay with Martin, I'll find her," Buck ordered.

"Who's Juliet?" asked Jack keeping pace beside him.

"A poor kid that Elizabeth drove nuts last year," said Buck. "Unfortunately, violent outbursts are her most frequent expression of insanity." Buck shoved the door open and nearly fell to his knees. "Damn it, no. This isn't happening." The spot where he'd left Lateesha's body was now empty of anything more than a bloodstain. Most of the partygoers were lined up along the wall being arrested by agents and officers alike. Seeing a familiar face that might provide some answers, Buck approached Darla. Grabbing Darla's arm and pulling her away from the others, he demanded, "What happened to Lateesha's body?"

"Why should I tell you anything? You're a traitor to your own kind, Buckingham." Darla practically spit out the words.

Buck's face darkened with viciousness, "Little girl, you don't know half as much about my kind as you think you do. Now, I've got no time to waste on a fool that's too stupid to know better than to worship a sadist, so why don't you tell me where she went before I show you just how Kindred I am."

Jack rarely had the opportunity to play good cop to someone else's bad. He had to admit that Buck had managed to leave the woman shaking in her boots with nothing more than a few simple words, but he also thought the Kindred line sounded a bit silly.

Darla didn't think it was silly though. "Juliet took her. She carried Lateesha out, with Cam and Becca just before the goon squad arrived."

Jack order several agents to search the direction Darla had indicated. "How badly injured was Lateesha?"

"I left her with an eight inch blade driven into her throat," admitted Buck.

"She's probably not going to make it very far then," offered Jack.

"You'd be surprised," countered Buck. "You'd be really surprised." Then he hobbled slowly back to the kitchen, leaving Jack to wonder why he suddenly felt so worried.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong> thanks again to those who have sent reviews. I really appreciate the feedback. I'll post the last chapter on the 29th. I hope you all have an enjoyable Halloween.


	5. Changes

Martin was feeling fine. Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely accurate. Martin was feeling stronger now that the doctors had hooked him up for a blood transfusion. (There had been quite a flurry of amazement when tests indicated that Danny and Martin were both at barely half the normal blood volume.)

Martin was also feeling a lot of guilt and confusion. That it was Danny's guilt and confusion he was feeling just drove home how much his life had changed in the last few hours. The confusion Martin could understand, after all Danny had been out of it for much of what Elizabeth and her cult had done to him. The guilt on the other hand was actually starting to irritate Martin a bit. The 'blood donation' had been Martin's idea. Harold had tried to warn him that it might be dangerous, but Martin had taken the chance anyway, knowing that Danny was worth the risk. Danny had no reason to feel guilty about anything.

Then there was all of the worry he was feeling, in surprisingly equal parts, from both Jack and his father. Jack was worrying about the fact that Lateesha and Juliet had vanished with one of their cult followers, Cam. Becca's lifeless body had been found by one of the search teams. The preliminary cause of death was being called blood loss, though there had been a suspicious lack of blood where her corpse had been found. That alone was enough to convince Martin that Lateesha was still on the loose. Buck wasn't overwhelmingly concerned though. He was of the opinion that Lateesha, ever the more controlled member of the group, would retreat at least for the time being so she could lick her wounds.

Victor's worry was much more powerful; the crippling sort of fear that only a parent can feel for a child. The crisis was over and Martin was safe, but that didn't seem to alleviate his father's fears nearly as much as it should. That Victor could weather this emotional storm while maintaining his favorite stoic demeanor, floored Martin. He decided right then to grill Buck on those mental shields he'd mentioned earlier. There were some things a child was better off not knowing about their parents.

Martin was propped into a partially upright position on the hospital bed in order to ease some of the pressure on his ribs. Next to him, Danny's bed was laid flat, but that didn't stop Danny from leaning on his elbows and trying to sit up every few minutes. Jack was sitting in a chair next to the bed asking gently worded questions about what Danny could remember of his second kidnapping. Those answers came smoothly enough until they started talking about Elizabeth's dungeon, which according to Jack was actually owned by Lateesha. Danny became decidedly evasive when Jack asked him about what happened in the dungeon. Martin could understand Danny's hesitancy. It wasn't that they didn't trust Jack, but how could they possibly explain what had happened to them without Jack thinking the torture had driven them a little crazy.

Danny was given a short reprieve when a nurse's aide came in with some drinks. Danny, being Danny seized the opportunity to flirt with a pretty woman. Martin was just happy to finally be allowed to drink something besides water. Orange juice had never tasted so good.

_'Watching an ass like that move, makes a man happy to be alive.'_

Martin choked on his orange juice. He couldn't believe that Danny had just said that while the woman was still in the room.

"Are you okay Martin?" asked Danny, his words were equal parts teasing and concern.

A quick glance around the room showed that everyone else, Jack, Victor and the nurse's aide were all just as focused on Martin, as though they hadn't heard Danny's first comment. It was then that Martin realized Danny hadn't spoken. Martin had heard Danny's thoughts.

Martin cleared his throat, swallowed the rest of his orange juice and said, "I'm fine." Then he looked at Danny sending the message, _'You're projecting your thoughts, Danny.'_

For a moment Danny looked confused, but once he saw Martin's eyes flick to the nurse's aide back to him, he realized what it was that had caused Martin to choke on his drink. "I'm so sorry," he started.

"Sorry for what?" asked Jack. There was definitely some byplay going on between Martin and Danny, but damned if he could understand what any of it meant.

Before Danny could explain his apology or Martin could offer an excuse, Buck entered the room, smiling appreciatively as the nurse's aide passed him on her way out. He was using crutches and had a removable brace on his left leg. "I figured I'd check up on you boys now that things have settled a bit." His words were friendly, but his focused gaze on Martin said a bit more. _'Decision time, boys. Are you planning on letting Jack and Victor in on what really happened in that dungeon?'_ Danny shrugged uncertainly. He trusted Jack, but he wasn't nearly so comfortable baring all to Victor.

Martin could understand Danny's hesitancy, but his recent glimpse into his father's psyche encouraged Martin to try another path. "Dad, I know my recent kidnapping has shaken you a bit more than you're willing to let on. I appreciate how you've been here trying to support me, but right now Danny and I need to talk to Jack about some of the more life altering events that happened while we were being held. You might prefer to leave if you're not ready to hear about it." This was really more his mother's style than his own, offering something of a passive challenge while still giving Victor an out.

Victor realized immediately that his son was handling him. Something that Martin was seldom inclined to do. There was only one thing he could think of that would have Martin acting this way. "This Elizabeth Hastate Bathory, she was more than just some crazy cult leader, she was Kindred wasn't she?"

The slack-jawed look of shock on Jack's face might have been amusing under other circumstances. Martin was too busy understanding the implications of Victor's statement. "You already knew about the Kin?" verified Martin.

"Well sure," volunteered Buck. "Victor here was part of the group that tried to recruit the Seven into working for the government a few years back. We decided to take a better offer."

"So who do you work for?" asked Jack still not believing what he was hearing.

"That's right," remembered Buck as he tried to reach into his pocket around one of his crutches. "I never did get chance to show you these." Buck handed Jack his credentials.

Examining them, the absurdity of the situation finally became too much for Jack. "So you're telling me that you're a vampire Mountie?"

"I'm an acting member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police," admitted Buck. "But as far as I'm aware, vampires don't exist. Kin on the other hand are ordinary folks that happen to have a particular reaction to a certain virus. I don't know all technical details, that's really Nathan's specialty not mine. But I do know that for those with the right DNA the virus triggers a boost to the immune system and even slows the aging process. For a rare few it does even more than that."

"You mean the reason Elizabeth looked so young for her age was that she'd somehow become infected with this virus at some time in the past." Jack was trying to keep an open mind, mainly because Martin and Danny were taking Buck so seriously. Even Victor seemed to be listening to what Buck had to say.

"She was deliberately infected seventeen years ago by a man named William Blake." Buck took a deep breath as he began to explain. "Current Kin law states that no one is to be infected against their wishes or without full disclosure. Most Kin are more than satisfied to have an extra thirty years of good health tacked on to their lives, but once their friends and family pass on they're usually inclined towards joining them. Humans are social creatures after all. Who would want to live forever if it meant living alone? However there is a significant minority of Kin that do keep living for centuries. William Blake was over four hundred years old and very old school. Some journals I discovered indicated that William's preferred method of acquiring help involved targeting Chosen, breaking their will through torture during transformation, when their minds were at the most vulnerable, and then turning them into his slaves. Those that caused problems were usually disposed of, but apparently he didn't dispose of Elizabeth fast enough."

Before Buck could say more there was a knock on the door and a forty something female doctor with short curly brown hair stepped into the room. "My name is Dr. Kaye. Harold Pembroke requested that I consult on your cases." Dr. Kaye turned towards Jack, Victor and Buck. "If you gentlemen don't mind, I need to speak with my patients in private."

Victor started to protest. Martin did a quick mental check with Danny and then assured, "You can speak freely with them here."

The doctor waited for a confirming nod from Danny before she pulled x-rays from an envelope. "The good news, Agent Fitzgerald, is that while you have several rib fractures, all of the ribs are still aligned. Since the dislocation of your thumb has already been taken care of there shouldn't be anything to interfere with your accelerated healing."

"Interfere how?" asked Martin.

"One of the most common mistakes Kin make when injured is assuming that all they have to do is take in a little blood to fix everything. But Kin still heal the same way everybody else does. They just do it a little faster. The accelerated healing doesn't reset bones or reduce dislocations. Nor is it instantaneous. Mr. Willington, if you're not going to use those crutches, would you please sit down? It will likely be two weeks before that broken leg heals completely." Buck had set his crutches aside while he leaned back against the wall. He gave in gracefully, taking a chair at the doctor's firm words.

"You aren't Kin," noted Martin. It was another one of those errant feelings that kept floating through his head.

"Correct," agreed Doctor Kaye. "It's my husband that is Kin, though I have studied with Dr. Nathan Jackson, the leading authority on Kin medicine."

"As part of the Toronto project?" asked Buck.

"Yes, for three years," replied Dr. Kaye.

"Toronto project?" queried Victor. If it had to do with the qualifications of his son's doctor he wanted to know about it.

"It's a program where doctors and scientists learn the ins and outs of Kin medicine, assisting with transformations or exploring the potential applications in standard medicine," explained Dr. Kaye.

"Nathan set it up as an offshoot of our work with the Canadian government," added Buck. "Chris decided several years back, that it was getting too tricky to enforce Kin law without assistance."

"Assistance the American government was quite eager to offer," inserted Victor.

"Well see, that was part of the problem. As soon as you heard what some Kin were capable of you were talking about spy potential and counter-terrorist commandos. We understood where you were coming from but you never seemed to recognize our position. There are about 100,000 Kin scattered all around the world. In theory, the local Regents are responsible for making sure other Kin don't cause problems. Unfortunately, too many solve those problems by simply encouraging the troublemakers to leave their cities. Reckonings are seldom called for anything less than mass murder. The Seven are just about the only authority that's accepted by all of the Regents. We're too busy policing the Kin to worry about anything else," insisted Buck. "The Canadians were happy to let us do our thing and take a few problems off of their hands in the process. Hell we even got dual citizenship out of the deal." Victor just shook his head as if still unable to understand their decision.

Dr. Kaye took the break in the conversation to continue with her consultation. "I've also had a chance to look over your blood work. Danny has clearly completed the transformation. I believe that once his blood volume is back up to normal we'll start to get a better picture of what abilities it might have triggered, though I believe Harold already mentioned amplified strength." Danny nodded a bit nervously. "Martin's transformation is proceeding at a slower rate with the expected elevation in white blood cells. Those will level off within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

"What about reversing the transformation?" asked Danny. "Is that possible?"

"You can't reverse what's been done per se, but if you stop taking in blood to fuel the changes, the activated genes will go dormant and your body will essentially reset itself. You might have a mild headache for a couple days, but nothing worse than that," assured Dr. Kaye. "Though I would advise that you wait until you've fully recovered from your trauma before making any decisions. For now I'm going to recommend that we continue the IVs and transfusions. Assuming we don't run into any unexpected complications I'd be willing to sign you both out in a couple hours."

"Okay," injected Jack. "If I'm understanding this right, people with this Kin virus can heal faster but they still need to receive basic medical care for more serious injuries, like say a stab wound to the neck."

"As I said before," agreed the doctor, "being Kin isn't a miracle cure. If the injury is serious enough for a person to need medical treatment, a Kin will likely need the same. If you don't mind I do need to check on some of my other patients now." Dr. Kaye finished a notation on Martin's chart and then excused herself from the room.

"I know where you're going with this," said Buck. "And if it were any ordinary Kin I might agree, but Lateesha was too powerful to assume she just crawled off to die. Until I see her cold dead corpse, she remains a threat."

"How much of a threat?" asked Danny and Victor at the same time.

"Well, tell me Martin. What would you do to the person that brutally murdered Danny?" posed Buck.

"I'd hunt them down . . ."

"So you could bring them to trial?" Buck queried.

"They'd never make it to trial," Martin vowed vehemently.

"Martin!" Victor was aghast. Surely those words hadn't just come out of the mouth of his idealistic young son. Jack, on the other hand, simply made a mental note to keep Martin away from any cases where Danny was injured.

Danny thought he should probably tell Martin that he didn't have to go to such extremes, but that would be pretty hypocritical considering he felt the same way. He'd been completely out of control after Dornvald shot Martin. He couldn't imagine how something like that would feel now. Martin was the rock that had anchored him against madness, the compass that guided him home. Somehow during the last day Danny's very soul had become irrevocably bound to Martin's. Going on without him wasn't just unacceptable; it was unimaginable.

"That's just the way it is with mental bonds," said Buck reasonably. "I've witnessed enough mental bonds to know that Lateesha is not going to let Elizabeth's death go."

"They had a bond?" Martin was surprised. The relationship between the two women had seemed so bizarre. Sometimes it had seemed like Lateesha was the servant and Elizabeth was the master, other times Lateesha was the indulgent parent and Elizabeth was the child.

"It wasn't very stable," admitted Buck, "but it was there. I think for a long time it kept Elizabeth from acting on her darker impulses. It has only been during the last few years that she escalated from voluntary S&M to wholesale torture. Prior to that Lateesha had always kept Elizabeth in check."

"She started to lose control of Elizabeth," speculated Jack.

"More like she didn't want to control Elizabeth anymore," countered Buck. "Maybe whatever insanity that made Elizabeth what she was had finally poisoned Lateesha too."

Danny was nauseated by that thought. How long had those two women crawled around in his mind while he'd been too helpless to stop them? How much damage had they done to his vulnerable mind? Was he really okay or was his link with Martin just covering the damage? Now that he'd bound Martin to him had he trapped his best friend into a decent into madness?

_'Don't go there Danny. You're not insane.'_

_'How can we know that when I can't remember most of what they did to me?'_

_'I remember. I watched what they did to you and I watched how you fought them, for every second, with every fiber of your being, until you couldn't fight them anymore. Then you retreated to a place within your own mind where they couldn't reach you. They never broke you Danny. They never had the chance.'_ For several seconds Danny's fears continued to rail against his trust in his friend. _'Come on Danny don't you think I would have noticed by now if you'd been driven into some homicidal mania?'_

_'I don't know Martin, you can be pretty dense sometimes.'_ The teasing retort drew a chuckle from Martin. He knew that Danny's fears hadn't been erased, but they had been pacified, and for the moment that was enough.

"Okay," said Jack. "New rule: no more of the talking to each other without talking, especially when others are involved in the conversation." Yet even as Jack reprimanded his men he was considering how useful this ability could be in situations where it might be too risky to wear a wire.

"I've been trying to get Chris and Vin to stop doing that for one hundred and thirty years and I haven't succeeded yet," commented Buck.

"You're a hundred and thirty years old?" asked Jack, disbelief leaking back into his voice.

"No, one hundred and sixty-five. I was thirty-five when I became Kin with the rest of the Seven," declared Buck.

Before Jack could sputter a retort, Martin instructed, "Tell us about them, the rest of the Seven."

"I should probably explain just how unusual it is for someone to actually be affected by the Kin virus, and I mean by more than just a stomach ache. We're talking maybe one in thirty thousand can be transformed. Those few we call Chosen. I think you can see how unlikely it is for even two unrelated Chosen to be working in the same office. That the two of you were partners and friends before the transformation is fairly astounding."

Danny glanced at Martin. He supposed their mental bond made more sense from that perspective. Maybe they'd even had a bond already forming on some unconscious level before Elizabeth had come along.

Hearing his partners thoughts Martin sent a wave of whole-hearted agreement.

"It was even more unlikely that seven Chosen would just happen to come together to protect an Indian village and then a nearby town, all without ever realizing our connection. Unfortunately someone else did recognize it. The first two of us were transformed against their will just like you Danny. It was ugly but they survived, mostly because Vin did the same thing as Martin here, and forged a mental bond that let Chris maintain his sanity. The rest of us were transformed within the next three years. By then our job protecting the local town had expired. We'd met several other Kin, both good and bad. We'd learned about the Kin laws; that how well they were enforced depended on the whims of the local Regent. Chris decided that making sure Kin didn't pose a threat to the rest of society was too important to be left to a whim. So we started enforcing the law. Pretty soon we were getting letters and telegraphs from Regents all over asking for our help with Kin troublemakers. So that's what we've been doing for the last century." Buck gave the men around him a moment to absorb his story. "Chris Larabee is our leader. He's a powerhouse like Danny who was a hell of a tactician long before he transformed. Vin Tanner is his second in command. Vin's got a mental bond with Chris and he's an empath in his own right. He also just happens to be Martin's great, great, great grandfather on his mother's side. I'm guessing that you inherited his empathic ability." When Martin didn't deny it, Buck continued. "Josiah Sanchez was a missionary's son. He's the most likely to travel to distant locals and usually acts as our negotiator when we need one. Ezra Standish is a former con man that does most of our long-term undercover work. Unfortunately, Lateesha took an immediate dislike to him so I got this assignment instead. Nathan Jackson is a former slave who turned himself into a doctor. JD Dunne is our youngest, literally a perpetual Peter Pan. You'll get to meet them yourself when they get here in a few hours."

"They're coming here? Now?" Martin wasn't sure he was ready for that just yet.

"Them and James Gamble, Regent of New York," said Buck.

"Where was Gamble when this city was under attack by Elizabeth?" demanded Victor.

"He was serving jury duty out west in the Gains Reckoning," explained Buck. "Not that it matters much anymore. Regency goes to the most powerful Kin in the city and right now that's Danny."

"What?" Buck couldn't possibly mean what Danny thought he meant.

"You heard me. You're transformation sealed the deal. You're the ruler of the New York Kin until someone more powerful comes along," insisted Buck.

Danny wasn't even sure he wanted to be Kin and now they were trying to put him in charge. _'What the hell have I gotten us into?'_

_'Better you than Elizabeth or Lateesha.'_ With that small thought Martin managed to convince Danny that becoming Regent was the right thing to do.

* * *

><p>Juliet carefully helped Lateesha sip blood from a straw. Cam had returned with it from a butcher shop a while back. She would have preferred to strengthen Lateesha with human blood, but Cam had been too helpful to eliminate. Besides, Juliet remembered that Lateesha was picky about which humans she drank from. Juliet was a little worried that Lateesha might get upset when she learned that Juliet had fed her Becca's blood. It was Becca's fault really. Cam had been helpfully following Juliet's commands, using the best of his pre-med education to apply first aid. Becca however had provided nothing beyond the car. All the while yammering about how horrible this was and why hadn't Juliet done something to stop them and why wasn't Juliet doing something to fix Lateesha? So Juliet had done something. She provided warm blood for Lateesha and silenced Becca's questions once and for all.<p>

They weren't in New York anymore. They'd driven south for hours after dumping Becca's body. Juliet was glad Becca was gone. It was hard, so hard trying to think things out; make plans. That was what Elizabeth did, only now there was no more Elizabeth. Juliet couldn't remember the last time she been forced to make decisions. She knew there had been a time before Elizabeth, but trying to remember that only brought pain. Better to think on how Elizabeth took care of her: brushed her hair and gave her food and let her play and told her how precious she was. All Elizabeth had ever asked for in return was Juliet's obedience. It was such a small price to pay for Elizabeth's love. Love that other's had forsaken.

_It was Elizabeth's gentle touch that roused Juliet after Buckingham's traitorous attack. She'd untied Juliet's hands before confronting the men. There'd been threats and allegations most of which Juliet hadn't understood. After all, Elizabeth wanted Daniel and Martin to become a part of their family, how could they not want the same? Then the fighting had begun. Buckingham's opening gambit of shooting Elizabeth filled Juliet with rage, but she'd stayed out of the fight for two reasons: First, because Lateesha had immediately stepped in to handle Buckingham. Second, Elizabeth had sent Juliet a mental order not to interfere, and Juliet could never disobey her mistress. Juliet had barely dodged out of the way when Lateesha and Buckingham took their battle back out into the hallway._

_Staying in the kitchen near her mistress, Juliet watched as Daniel and Martin tried to flank the bleeding Elizabeth, their knives ready to attack._

_"You won't kill me, Daniel. You already belong to me," whispered Elizabeth in a voice that Juliet knew could only speak the truth._

_It made no sense when Daniel darted forward, swinging the serrated edge, shouting, "I'm not your possession!"_

_Elizabeth dodged Daniel's attack but not Martin's from the other side. Now she had a long gash joining her bullet wounds. Juliet for the first time started to fear for Elizabeth's survival. Overwhelmed she'd huddled in a little ball of whimpering her distress. Elizabeth managed to push Martin back into a rolling cart, which gave way beneath his weight allowing both to crash to the ground. Still, it was clear she was weakening. Daniel closed in again but this time Elizabeth didn't just evade his attack. She knocked his blade arm away and then grasped the back of his neck, using the contact to tap into his life force. Juliet saw Daniel's eyes roll back in his head as he struggled against Elizabeth's will; still she sucked the energy from him. "I didn't want to do it this way Daniel, but I won't let you go. I'll see you dead before I give you up."_

_"Not if I kill you first," warned Martin as he rejoined the fray. His simple bull rush slammed into Elizabeth, forcing her to release Daniel._

_Elizabeth tried the same tactic on Martin but somehow he met her stare for stare, blocking her from the precious energy she needed. She let loose a frustrated scream then threw Martin across the room expending most of her remaining strength. Martin crumpled to the ground after hitting the far wall with thunderous force. That should have been it, but somehow when Elizabeth latched on to Daniel the second time, she wasn't able to drain energy from him. Then Elizabeth was falling and dying beneath Daniel's blade._

_Juliet crawled from the kitchen overwhelmed with despair. In the hall she saw Lateesha being treated urgently by Cam with Becca hovering near. Somewhere in Juliet's crumbling world an idea formed. She couldn't save Elizabeth, but she could save Lateesha. Commandeering Cam and Becca, they had fled._

Juliet wasn't sure how long it would take for Lateesha to recover, but she hoped it was soon. Then she could stop making the decisions and go back to following a mistress, her new mistress. Maybe if was obedient enough Lateesha would love her the way Elizabeth had. Then they would destroy the ones who had taken Elizabeth from them.

* * *

><p>Despite a chilly breeze the sun still warmed Danny's skin, stinging his eyes a bit with its brightness.<p>

"Here, put these on," Martin instructed tossing Danny a pair of sunglasses. "Enjoying the sunshine?"

"I know they told us that most of the legends surrounding vampires didn't apply, but I just needed to be sure," insisted Danny a bit self-consciously.

"Relax, Danny. I get it," assured Martin. "So how is Elena doing?"

"She'd finally given up on going back to work, and was resting when I stopped by," detailed Danny. "What about your Dad? What did he want to talk to you about?"

"Potential career advancement for those with the right sort of abilities," Martin smirked.

"You're not serious," said Danny. When Martin shrugged, Danny shook his head. "Your dad has major issues."

"Yeah, I know," Martin agreed affectionately.

"This doesn't bother you?" Danny was fairly certain that these were the type of 'talks' with Victor that usually sent Martin off into quite the self-righteous snit.

"It's hard to get mad at him when I can feel what an emotional wreck he is about the whole incident," Martin shrugged in bemusement. "Anyway I figure I should save my energy for our meeting with James Gamble and the rest of the Seven. Buck said their plane landed twenty minutes ago."

"Right, because now I'm supposed to assume some sudo-royal position of leadership while you make small talk with your three-times great grandpa," mused Danny.

Martin grinned, clearly having a little too much fun with the situation. "Transformation has certainly made our lives more interesting," he pointed out.

Danny studied the way the rays of sunlight filtered between the city buildings. Beside him he could feel Martin not just leaning against his arm, but also his laughter in Danny's mind and his warmth in Danny's soul. He'd heard people talk about unconditional acceptance before, but he'd never understood what it meant until now. If this kept up Danny could definitely get used to interesting.

_'Me too, Danny. Me too.'_

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Happy Halloween! I hope you've enjoyed this bit of fun. I'd love to hear your thoughts on potential sequels . . . or prequels so please drop me a note.


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